Blackbird
by Purple Mouse
Summary: His first day working at Bentley Park Psychiatric Hospital, Dr. Myojuan Yamada encounters an interesting patient... Being reborn with memories of a past life isn't always a gift. If no one believes you, it could be a curse. Lucky 13. ^_^;;
1. The Window

****

Disclaimers: Don't own the anime. Don't own the song. Don't own Matt Damon. Damn.

****

Warnings: Kinda sad, I guess. Maybe a little OOC because it involves Psychological Stuff. I tried not to have it OOC, but it might seem that way, just because the situations are different, etc. ~.~() so I hope it's okay. Oh, yeah…this is also the best title I could come up with at 5:00 in the morning. So it's kinda obscure and silly, but…gahhh, whatever. ^___^ 

****

Name Stuff: Okayyyy…see, I do too many reincarnation fics, I guess. But I used up all my creative and unusual names when I did Fires of Destiny!! ~.~;;;;; So all the guys in this fic have the same names that they usually do in reincarnation fics, so I don't get confused. **nodnod**

****

Notes: Whoah! This is my first new story in…a _while_!! Figured it was time, maybe, eh? ^_^ I stayed up all night writing this, because I am a loser. But all I have today is a drawing class, so I should be able to handle it. I hope. Anyhoo, hope you guys don't think this is too boring. ^___^ 

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter One:

The Window

Dr. Myojuan Yamada  
Apt. No. 425  
1532 W. Springhill Dr.  
Pearson, IL, 66449

  
Dear Dr. Yamada:

  
Thank you for your patience in seeking a position with Bentley Park Hospital. After reviewing the transcripts of your interview of 5 December, we are pleased to inform you that we would be happy to give you the position for which you applied. Please contact us at (776) 555-0449 to confirm.

Sincerely,

Dr. Roman J. Lewis  
Head Physician  
Bentley Park Hospital and Home  
Lake View, IL

He looked at the letter, read it over a few times, and sighed. Leaning back in his chair, he proceeded to examine the cracks in the ceiling of his small third-floor apartment, as if they would somehow tell his future, which was now…rather uncertain.

A therapist in private practice: that's what he had been, before this new crisis. _Private practice_. It meant rich hypochondriacs who would be happy to rattle on for hours about the lint between their toes. It meant psychopathic aristocrats who would bring in their _dogs _for therapy…not that he disliked animals, quite the contrary, but they had a tendency to be rather unresponsive where Freudian tactics were involved.

And most importantly, it meant money.

But no one wanted an analyst who told the truth, and therein lay the problem. He would gladly have accepted their generous paychecks if he was actually _helping _his patients. The fact was, however, that very few of them were sick beyond the normal amount of worries and troubles that come with everyday living. He _tried _to _tell _them these things, thinking that he was thus doing at least a _small _bit of good. But it seemed like those people didn't _want _to be cured. They wanted to suffer, God knows why…maybe out of boredom. Whatever the case was, though, it had made him decidedly unpopular in upper-class circles—a shrink who actually _did his job!! _The _horror_!—and money had become more and more scarce as the months of unemployment ticked by.

He'd considered moving. He'd considered going back to school and getting a proper medical degree with no sketchy psychological corners to skirt around. Christ, he'd even considered becoming a bloody _professor_. But every time he'd decided on something, some strange reason always arose to put it off.

And now this.

A position at Bentley Park, the best-reputed asylum—_psychiatric hospital_, to be politically correct—in five counties. The pay wouldn't be high, but it would be _something_…enough to keep him in Herbal Remedies and Tama-neko in Iams Dry Cat Food, anyway. If only he could shake the stereotypical, violent images of such places from his mind: Jack Nichalson in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," getting shock-treated to vegetable status; straight jackets, scruffy patients, sadistic nurses, daily meds, and people with honest-to-goodness mental problems. People who thought they were Napoleon, or Betty Crocker; people who took eighteen baths a day and refused to wear the same pair of socks twice.

Pleasant picture.

But again, it was _something_. He saw himself as fairly sympathetic in nature. Going over all the Movie Asylum Staples in his mind again, he pictured himself making a marked difference in the lives of the inmates…_patients_. He would crusade to end the stereotypical shock therapy. He would keep an eye out for the stereotypical sadistic nurses, and perhaps encourage the scruffy loons to shave.

__

Quite the Giant Killer, aren't you?

"Indeed," he mumbled aloud, gently folding Dr. Lewis' letter and placing it back inside its envelope. Setting the thing peremptorily down on the kitchen table, he tried to get up and make some coffee…but his eyes always fell back down to it, and he drummed his fingers on the blue and white tablecloth, frustrated.

He caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked up just in time to see his white cat, Tama, jump up onto the table by way of the opposite chair. 

"Tamaaaa," he said warningly. "You know the kitchen table is not a place for cats."

Tama ignored him, strutting toward his master with a gleam in his eyes, grey-tipped tail twitching back and forth. He stopped in front of Myojuan, and the big doctor could hear him purring. Ruffling the cat's ears, he offered a small smile. "Well? What do _you _think of this recent turn of events? Should I be a doctor in a loony bin?"

In response, Tama promptly sat upon the letter in question.

Myojuan sighed. Ever-helpful, as always. "I didn't really think I'd _get _this job," he confessed to his feline audience. "I don't have that kind of training. Should I take it as some kind of good sign, that they want me anyway?"

The cat crouched down and flopped over on his side, rolling on his back in hope of a kind, scratching hand. His master chuckled and obliged. "I can see you're deep in thought over the situation," he said, then sighed and tugged the envelope out from under his pet. "Well. Better sacrifice pride and reputation for food and shelter, eh?"

He dialed the number and waited for the automated receptionist, not exactly sure whether he regretted it yet or not.

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

"Well, Dr. Yamada! I must say, it's an honor to have you join our staff!" said Dr. Roman J. Lewis, standing and reaching across the desk to shake the hand of his new employee. He was a tall, thin man, balding, with a brown mustache and a pair of round wire spectacles perched on his long nose. His eyes were in such a perpetual squint of cheer that it was almost impossible to determine their color if one did not have pliers with which to pry them open.

"The honor is mine," Myojuan assured him, determined to be polite, even if it was not _precisely _the truth. "When do I begin?"

Dr. Lewis gave him a sheepish grin. "Funny you should ask…"

__

Wonderful. They've already got me booked until next Christmas, I'll wager.

"We have a young man here who could be waiting for someone like yourself," the head physician said casually, opening his top drawer and rifling through the papers there.

"Oh?" said Myojuan. "How so?"

"He's been seeing private therapists since he was nine years old," Lewis explained. "He'll be used to your style. It will be…comforting, I imagine."

"If the private therapists he's seen obviously couldn't help him—otherwise, he wouldn't be here—what makes you think I'd be any different?" Myojuan asked. "Not meaning to be offensive, of course."

Lewis chuckled. "Of course not, of course not… Ah! Here we are." He pulled a file from the drawer, gave it a lingering glance, and handed it over to Myojuan. "His name's Ryuuen; Ryuuen Chou. Seventeen years old, middle-class family, fairly normal life…no great tragedy, or anything. Not even a pet dying."

Examining the file, Myojuan cocked an eyebrow. "So…what's his problem? He see dead people? Think he's from the planet K-Pax?"

"Hehe. No," said Lewis. "I must say, I'm glad to find a man with your sense of humor in this profession, Doctor."

Myojuan grinned wryly. "Why, thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your saying so, especially since most people don't actually believe I _have _a sense of humor."

His new employer looked appalled. "No!"

"Sad, but true." He examined the list of maladies that had afflicted his new patient. "Hmm. Sexual identity crisis; hallucinations; delusions; early stages of anorexia. Interesting."

"That was what resulted in his coming here," Lewis explained. "The hallucination/delusion bit has always been there, as far as we know. Family tried to take care of them, but for some reason, they only seemed to get stronger. The straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak, was his father coming home one fine evening to find his young son dressed in his sister's clothing."

"Hm," said Myojuan.

"Well, you can imagine what a row ensued, in a run-of-the-mill conservative household." Raising his eyebrows, Lewis blew out a sigh. "Ended in a sort of hunger strike for the boy. And they finally decided that they…just couldn't deal with him on their own. And lo, voila! He is here. And you are here."

"How long has he been here?"

"Ohhhh…a week, give or take. Still not eating properly; got him hooked up to an IV at night. He's not really talking much, so it's been trying attempting to figure out how his bloody little mind works…or, rather, doesn't work." He laughed a bit at his own joke. "Mind you, Yamado, if you talk to him and discover yourself to be unprepared to deal with whatever ails him, no one at Bentley is ever penalized for making a judgment call. If anything, they are commended, for a good doctor knows his own limits."

With a sigh, Myojuan closed the file and nodded. "All right. Well. When can I meet him?"

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

Gingerly closing the heavy door behind him, Myojuan gazed across the too-tidy room to his new patient.

There had been no picture in the file Lewis had given him, and to tell the truth, he wasn't sure exactly _what _he'd been expecting. But whatever it had been, it certainly wasn't the slight, fragile-looking boy before him.

Ryuuen Chou had turned one of the padded chairs to face the barred window, and was now sitting in it, cross-legged and slightly hunched, clad in a white cotton outfit that resembled nothing so much as pajamas. His chin was tilted toward the blue sky, showing off the graceful, almost feminine curve of his neck, trailing down into the hollows of his collarbone, exposed by the loose shirt he wore. His small hands rested gently on his ankles, pale enough to rival the white of his clothing, as was the rest of his skin; a mass of dry-looking, purplish hair trailed down his back, the long bangs tucked behind his ears. The signs of the young man's eating disorder were evident in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the sunken cheeks, and the dryness of the hair.

__

Seventeen? Myojuan exclaimed inside his head. _He looks about twelve. Maybe in his early teens. MAYBE._

In that first moment, that very first glimpse he had of the boy, the young doctor's heart went out to him. Which was strange, all things considered; despite his love of helping people, Myojuan had never really had his heart "go out" to anything or anyone except his animals.

But this boy, this child…he looked like an animal himself. Like a bird, a brittle, caged little bird, peering out into a world that was no longer his to inhabit.

Maybe it never had been, in the first place.

Ryuuen didn't seem to have noticed him coming in, so he took a few delicate steps in his patient's direction.

"Ryuuen?"

Silence. Not even a glimmer of recognition that there was someone else in the room besides himself.

He tried again, heading over to the neatly-made bed near the chair, clearing his throat. "Ryuuen, I'm Dr. Yamado. I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

A few moments passed. Still no response.

__

Well. So far, so good.

"What're you looking at?" Sat down on the bed.

Still nothing. What the heck did he have to _do _to make the kid…

Wait! There…a slight movement of the throat. 

__

He swallowed!!! My catatonic patient SWALLOWED!!! Saints preserve us, if THAT'S one of the perks of the job, I'm in for one hell of a career.

"Ryuuen?…I know you can hear me," he proceeded gently.

And there it was again, a slight flicker of movement around the smooth jaw, a tiny flutter of the eyelashes.

__

He's hesitating. Come on, kiddo. Come out of the old shell.

"What are you looking at, through that window?" he pressed, keeping his voice soothing and quiet. _Just like a bird; can't make any sudden moves, can't frighten him away._

Another long, drawn-out pause, and Myojuan had conceded that the effort had been wasted. He tried to think of something else he could use, some other phrase to strike up an interest…but the room was painfully bare. No posters, no pictures…nothing to talk about. Nothing.

"Do you like…_music_?" he was about to inquire lamely, but was silenced—_thank God!_—by another swallow from young Ryuuen…quickly followed by…_a voice_.

"I'm…waiting….for the stars to come out," the boy said in a small, croaky voice, as if he'd not spoken in days…which, according to Lewis, he hadn't. Still not tearing his eyes away from the bars and glass. 

__

HE SPEAKS!!!

"Why? Why are you waiting for the stars?" Naturally, he betrayed none of his inner jubilation on his face.

"Because…" –faded to a hoarse whisper, now—"then I won't be lonely anymore." 

"Well, that's why I'm here," said Myojuan. _Right. Build on the friendship. Build on the trust. _"I'm here to keep you company, so you won't be lonely."

And then, without warning, the exhausted-looking face turned to face him, and he was stricken full-on by a pair of beautiful violet eyes—yes, beautiful, but sad, so very sad—which went suddenly wide as saucers at the sight of the oversized psychiatrist sitting on his bed.

And then…

A smile. Ever so slight; just the very shadow of a shadow of a smile. But it was there. 

"It's…" the boy gasped, painstakingly twisting his thin body in the chair. "It's you!"

~~*~~

__

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

****

TBC… 

AAHHHH!!!! ^____^ heehee. Okay, so the song lyrics are cheesy. **shrug** Ah well.

Okay, just wanna let y'all know that I haven't really proofed this AT ALL…because it's almost five in the morning and I'm a freak for staying up too late. ^_^ So if there turn out to be any typos or weird things in it, I'll be sure to fix 'em later. But if you have any comments, I'd be glad to hear them. ^_____^ Thanks for reading!


	2. The Promise

****

Disclaimers: No own Nuri or Mits. No own FY. No own song. No own good pencil sharpener. 

****

Warnings: Depressing, dramatic, angsty, lalalalalaaaaa.

****

Notes: WOW!! I'm glad you guys seemed to like the first part of this!! ^____^n I hope you like this part, too. I must make one note: I know relatively nothing about psychiatric practices beginning any time after the Great War. Eheh. So if I make mistakes, you can tell me and I'll try to correct them. Okie? Cool. ^_^ Thanks, Ryu-chan, for giving your Seal of Approval for the title of the chapter! Woohoo!!! ^____^ Have fun, everybody!

****

BLACKBIRD

Chapter Two:

The Promise

He looked into the hopeful eyes and gave an internal sigh of disappointment. 

__

What's this? Does he think he knows me? Well, this is…unexpected. What the hell do I say? Will he go back to being a vegetable if I correct him?

He hated to think that the simple correction could destroy this fragile connection he'd made. He hated the thought of seeing even more sadness on the face of this emotionally and physically fragile boy. But trust. Trust was the goal, and he'd never earn it by fabrication. So he decided on a middle path, a sort of not-quite-direct way of stating that, whoever Ryuuen had mistaken him for, he was not that person.

"I'm Dr. Yamado," he said again, keeping his voice gentle, smiling encouragingly. "I've been assigned to look after you. It's very nice to meet you, Ryuuen." Myojuan stuck out his right hand for his patient to shake.

The shadow of a shadow of a smile faded away to nothing, and the child before him appeared to deflate, somehow; the eyes dropped slowly to the corner of the bed. A moment of silence passed between them, during which Myojuan kept telling himself to say something reassuring, but couldn't find any words that would work. Finally, it was Ryuuen who spoke first.

"O-oh," he said, his voice a broken whisper. "Oh. I…I'm sorry." Without raising his eyes, he turned back in his chair so he faced the wall again, this time forgoing his cross-legged position in favor of hugging his knees tightly to his chest, resting his ear upon them. Although his head was turned away from Myojuan, the doctor saw the slight, tell-tale shudder of his back, and realized with a strange pain in his heart that Ryuuen was crying. Trying to hide his tears, but crying nonetheless. And he found that he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug the boy, to hold him close and stroke the brittle hair and banish the sadness from his eyes…which was undeniably strange, considering he'd never felt such an emotional, protective surge toward anything with two legs and opposable thumbs. In the end, however, he managed to repress the bizarre urge, since what would likely be seen as sexual harassment from an authority figure was probably not the best thing for his patient's state of mind.

"Ryuuen?" he tried again. "Are…you all right?"

__

Your logic astounds me. He's an anorexic teenager sitting in a psychiatric hospital and crying. Naturally, he's perfectly all right.

He expected silence, but what he got was a little voice so muffled by tears that he couldn't understand what it was saying.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear."

A trembling sigh. He thought he could see the individual vertebrae through the pale shirt as the boy's back rose and fell.

"They're not coming back. They're not coming back and you're alone, alone, alone, alone…" Ryuuen started rocking slowly back and forth, curling up on himself as if he were trying to make himself disappear. 

It took Myojuan longer than it should have to realize that he was talking to himself. The reaction disturbed him, _really _disturbed him, struck into his chest like an icicle and spread throughout his body. He'd never had to deal with something like this before. This kid wasn't just having adolescent "issues," as had been the case with all of his other younger patients. There was something really wrong with him, something really, seriously wrong with him, and he began to wonder if he was actually experienced enough to be of any help at all in this case.

Dr. Lewis had said he could back out, if he wanted to, if he felt insufficient for the task.

But…

__

No.

His heart screamed in protest to the idea. For some reason, it would not let him abandon this boy to the care of another. That frail body needed something solid to latch onto, something real. And he had the strangest feeling that, if he couldn't be that something, then no one ever would.

Sliding smoothly off the bed, he knelt beside the cream-colored chair and slowly, ever so slowly, moved his hand to rest on Ryuuen's shoulder. The moment their two bodies touched, the young man grew still, the frantic murmuring ceased. 

"You're not alone," Myojuan said, finding himself reverting to the same voice he had once used when attempting to calm an injured kitten. "I'm here to make sure you're not alone."

Ryuuen turned his head, now resting the other ear on his knees, and peered at his doctor with eyes that were huge and hopeless and framed by tears. "But you're not you," he whispered. "You're not you anymore." 

__

Delusional, he thought. _Hallucinations. That's what it said in the file. What does he see? Something frightening? Something hideous?_

"I'm me," he said slowly. "I promise. I promise you, I'm me." He rubbed the bony shoulder in a gesture of comfort; then, tentatively, he reached up to smooth back the hair from Ryuuen's face. The boy's lower lip quivered, and he closed his eyes fairly tightly, causing all unshed tears to trail down his face, across the narrow bridge of his nose, and soak tiny wet spots into his white pants. Myojuan continued to stroke the unruly hair just as he would stroke Tama, careful lest he somehow rub the wrong way.It seemed, to his relief, to calm the teenager down quite a bit.

__

I can do this, after all. 

Eventually, Ryuuen let out a shaky sigh and opened his eyes once more. Eyebrows drawn together wistfully, he licked his lips, swallowed painfully, and said, "It would… It would be nice, to pretend you're you."

__

For pity's sake, what can I say to that?? Myojuan thought in alarm. _Who does he think I am??? If I let him pretend, he'll be calmer…he might even speak coherently to me. But that would be like deceiving him. If he puts too much stock into the pretense, how would he react when he DOES realize it's not true?_

But the boy needed all the help he could get, and if Myojuan could help him more effectively by letting him believe he was some sort of long-lost friend…

__

I'm going to lose my goddamn license.

His patient was now looking at him strangely, having raised his head and relaxed slightly. The painful glint was still in his eyes, his lip began trembling again… And before the addled doctor knew what was happening, he had reached out thin, pale, cotton-clad arms and leaned forward to hug Myojuan around the neck, laying his cheek on the big man's shoulder, half his body still curled up on the chair. The impulsive gesture reminded Myojuan of a four-year-old girl he had baby-sat for in his younger, less study-driven days…he had only just been introduced to her, her parents had departed, and she had latched onto him with innocent affection, offering a grin and an earnest, "I love you." In Ryuuen's case, it only served to open up yet another bottle of protective reflex.

__

Take me away from my suffering, the childish action pleaded. _Make it go away… be my friend, take care of me, don't leave me alone in the dark. _And Myojuan responded by circling his own arms around the boy, just gently enough to be felt as a stable, solid presence. If he squeezed too tight, he worried, his delicate charge might break.

"I'm glad you're here," Ryuuen breathed—sighing again, but this time it sounded almost content—and fell asleep, just like that. His left arm slowly trailed down from Myojuan's neck to hang haphazardly over the man's elbow, locking at the joint and sticking out at an odd angle, as if reaching out for something unseen.

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

Myojuan exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he stood outside Dr. Lewis' office awaiting an audience. Over and over again, he went over the events of the past hour or so in his mind, asking himself question after unanswerable question: why did he feel so strongly about a patient? Just another patient, just another job? Why did he feel such a connection after such a short meeting? He should have been pondering what methods to use to try to delve into Ryuuen's mind, taking his problem seriously, focusing on the boy instead of on the way he himself felt about the situation. But try as he might, the more he thought of Ryuuen, the more he couldn't help but think of the strange, inexplicable bond between them. 

He had taken the sleeping form and placed it gently on the bed, noting—but not really marveling—that it weighed about as much as a very heavy can of soup. He had drawn the covers up over the emaciated boy, smoothed back his hair one last time, let his hand rest on his pale, slightly sunken cheek…and wondered why it was so hard to leave. But he had left, with a word to the nurse in the corridor that his patient was sleeping calmly. She thanked him with a shy smile, then hurried off…probably to get Ryuuen's IV, he thought, feeling sick.

And now…

The door opened suddenly, and another one of the doctors stepped out. This one was a small man with a youthful face, and he grinned at Myojuan, stuck his clipboard under his arm, and held out his hand. 

"Sorry to have made you wait," he said agreeably. "My name's Kent…David Kent, and you'd be the newbie?"

Returning the smile as best he could with Ryuuen still tugging at the back of his mind, Myojuan shook the man's hand. "That's right. Myojuan Yamado. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yamado, eh?"

"Yes. It's Japanese."

Kent gave him an amused look. "Really? Had me confused there for a sec."

The big man shrugged, his grin deepening. He thought he would like Kent, which he supposed was a good start, considering he didn't know any of his coworkers. "Sorry."

"No worries. Well, probably shouldn't keep Lew waiting in there too long, eh? Nice to meet ya, I'll see ya 'round!" His new acquaintance strode off down the hall, whistling. Myojuan shook his head, then took a breath and entered the office.

"Well," said Dr. Lewis, peering at him over the rims of his spectacles from behind the desk. "That didn't take you very long! What do you think of him?"

"I…" he faltered, fishing for words. 

"Ah." Lewis looked slightly disappointed. "Well, I wouldn't feel too bad. He's like that with everyone. I'd hoped, with your background…"

"Forgive me…like what?"

"Oh, you know…" the balding man tapped the end of his pencil on the smooth, stained wood of his desk. "Distant. Unresponsive. He wouldn't so much as look at poor Barrington, when he had a go. And Barrington is one of the gentlest, most patient doctors we've got."

Myojuan tried not to wince. He knew Lewis meant well, but he couldn't help but feel a little angry upon hearing the head psychiatrist refer to it as "having a go" at helping his patient. 

"But, anyway…we've a new fellow coming in from the east coast, who's supposed to deal remarkably well with this sort of thing," the man continued. "So you mustn't be upset that…"

"He spoke to me," he interrupted, his voice soft, but firm. 

Lewis blinked, then widened his eyes abnormally. "_What_?"

"He spoke to me. He was…very responsive. I want to stay on as his doctor," Myojuan said stubbornly, hoping he didn't sound too rude. He didn't intend to sound rude, but sometimes, that's just the way it came out.

The look of disbelief on Lewis' face was soon replaced by a beaming grin. "That's…that's _wonderful_!!! Well, well well well!! Congratulations, Yamado, my friend!! You have succeeded where others have failed, myself included!" He stood swiftly, knocking a mug full of black and blue pens off the edge of his desk. Ignoring the mess completely, he hurried around to grab his new employee's hand and pump it frantically. "I _knew _there was something about you! Didn't I say so? I _knew _it! And in only one meeting!"

__

Tell me about it, sighed Myojuan to himself. "What's your normal policy for sessions? I don't think we ever really discussed that."

"Oh! Dear me. Normally, one or two hours a day, five days a week. The specific times are at your convenience, of course; but a set time every day is preferable, since it gets the patients into a fixed schedule…which, of course, is comforting for them."

Myojuan nodded once, firmly. "Is three o'clock all right to come tomorrow?"

~~*~~

__

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

TBC… ****

Notes: Ehehehe…. ~.~() Ne, Kokkei-san, I know the song isn't cheesy! ^____^ It's just my utilization of it as a dramatic End-Of-Chapter deal that is. ^_~

****


	3. The Connection

****

Disclaimer: The only things that are mine are the plot and all the characters that didn't used to be seishi. ^_^

****

Warnings: Meeeeelodrama? Dumb chapter title? Can anyone think of another one? 

****

Notes: Hi, everyone! Again, I'm really glad you're enjoying this new fic. ^_^n Heehee. I hope this chapter's okay. Kumagoro says: "I wish Ryuichi could get help in a place like this!" ^_~ 

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Three:

The Connection

"How are you feeling today?" asked Myojuan from the big armchair.

Ryuuen had his back to him, sitting in his own chair facing the window, as he had been when Myojuan had first encountered him. He hadn't received much in the way of greeting, and felt a sudden fear that the response he'd evoked the previous day had been nothing more than a fluke. Ten seconds…fifteen…twenty passed, and his heart sank…but then the boy gave a small shrug, lowered his head, and started to fiddle with the toes of his sock.

__

Thank you.

"Not good?"

No reply, once again, and he decided that he was never going to get his patient to talk from halfway across the room. Myojuan stood slowly, stuck his black Bic Metal Point pen behind his ear, gathered up his notes, and moved, as unobtrusively as possible, to sit on the bed. It wasn't a very comfortable bed, he noted, but more of the cheap college dormitory variety. He supposed the hospital's funds were probably directed elsewhere, to pay for the electric bills for all the shock therapy going on behind closed doors. Or for Jello. There was enough Jello in the place to build a life-scale model of the Taj Mahal.

"Didn't you sleep well?" he tried again, returning his focus to something relevant.

Ryuuen continued fiddling, eyes lowered. His brow was slightly furrowed, and he took a sharp breath, as if meaning to speak…but then relaxed, apparently changing his mind. Myojuan waited patiently, aware that something was going to come sooner or later…and sure enough, after only a few moments, the boy inhaled again. 

"They wouldn't let me look at the stars last night," he said, still frowning, bottom lip stuck out in a slight, affronted pout.

"Oh?" said his doctor. "Well, that wasn't very nice of them. Why not?"

Another few tentative breaths. "I woke up…and the _things _were in me." With a jerk that was somehow graceful, he brought his right hand up, then over to the crook of his left elbow. "They wouldn't take them out. And…I can't move to see the sky when they're there."

__

IVs, he's talking about. "Well, you know," said Myojuan gently, taking in the pained face—_He's really upset, that he didn't get to stargaze_—"if you'd start eating properly, they wouldn't have to put the things in. And you could get up whenever you wanted."

Ryuuen let that sink in, discomfort evident in his expression, and finally shrugged again. 

Myojuan had gone over this anticipated first meeting in his mind several thousand times the previous night. How to begin? How to behave? How on earth was he going to dig out this problem that seemed so deeply rooted within this boy? The textbook answers just didn't seem to fit; and besides, he didn't want to see Ryuuen as just another textbook equation. He was different. He was…_personal_, somehow, and Myojuan couldn't begin to explain why. Far from willing to start psychoanalyzing _himself_, he chalked it up to instinct, which had always treated him well in the past, and left the issue behind. Tama had listened to his low, pensive musings as patiently as any good feline, but had not provided much in the way of feedback. The conclusion he had reached, as he lay in his bed and stared up at the ceiling in the wee hours of morning, was a rather self-evident one: just be patient and gentle, and work with what arose between them. He could always attempt something else, if this method found him at a dead end. It seemed the safest way to go.

With the memory of this vow fresh in his mind, he took the line he had offered and pressed steadily toward an answer.

"Why can't you eat anything?" He kept his voice non-confrontational, just the slightest of nudges in the direction in which he hoped to go.

Ever so slowly, Ryuuen moved his arms up to hug himself tightly around his chest, still not looking up. His face was contorted into a tiny grimace, as if debating what answer to give, or whether to answer at all. 

"I…it makes me feel sick," he mumbled earnestly. "When I…eat things, it…I always feel like I'm gonna throw up."

__

Well…hm. Not image-conscious, then. Interesting.

"Always?" Myojuan said gently.

A slow nod.

He let the silence linger for a moment before saying, "Would you try eating just a little bit, if it meant you wouldn't need the 'things' at night? Do you think you could?"

"…I…" Ryuuen hugged himself more tightly. "I don't know why…why I remember _you_, but you don't remember _me_."

__

That wasn't answering the question. That's not fair.

Myojuan blinked at the boy, feeling the weird sense of personal connection once more. He _didn't _remember seeing Ryuuen before, not ever in his life. But somehow…_ somehow…_ His words were haunting. With some effort, he managed to remind himself that he _was _the _doctor _in this case, and managed to proceed logically.

"What is it that you remember?"

The young man braced his shoulders as if raising a protective barrier around his frail body, and turned his head away. 

"…Ryuuen?"

He shook his head firmly, almost violently in comparison with the muted movements he had allowed himself before. Myojuan opened his mouth to smooth over the offensive question somehow, but then, unexpectedly… "You wouldn't believe me."

__

I'm not paid to believe you. I'm paid to make you forget what you believe. 

"Why do you say that?"

"No one ever does." The small voice was resigned, wavering but not hysterical. Accepting. Weary.

"How do you know I won't?"

"Call me Nuriko. Won't you?"

"Ryuuen…"

"Nuriko." The pale face turned and tilted toward him; shimmering eyes peered, yearning, into his own. "…Please?"

This was an interesting turn of events. Hoards of different diagnoses—identity crisis, multiple personalities—bloomed in his mind like violets, and the textbooks he had hated so passionately in graduate college announced self-righteously that he should play along or lose the battle. And he wasn't about to lose. He would not allow that. Not with this one.

He sighed. "Nuriko…"

A slight whimper made its way through the trembling lips before they were pressed closed in a tight line, and Ryuuen closed his eyes tightly, tiny silver droplets gathering and clinging to his eyelashes. He brought an unsteady hand up to hide his tears, pushing the heel of his palm gently beneath the eye closest to his visitor. The shaky emotions he had displayed in the past few days, Myojuan knew, were mostly a result of malnutrition and stress, and by all rights, he should have been able to distance himself behind the medical explanation. But the tears still tore at him, still frustrated him, because at that moment, he could do nothing to stop them. And he wanted to stop them, more than anything in the world. 

"Nuriko," he repeated—was it a nickname?—"try me. Just try me; you might be surprised at what I would believe."

Another violent shake of the head. "You won't, you won't, you won't. You think I'm crazy…everyone does…"

Abandoning his notes on the bed, Myojuan circled around to kneel in front of Ryuuen's chair, trying to face him straight on. _There's never a problem can't be solved if you face it straight on…_according to his father, that was, and it had always proved true in the past. Literal or figurative, it didn't seem to make a difference. 

"Listen," he said. _Gently…gently, or he'll shatter like the mother-loving Glass Menagerie. _"I don't think you're crazy. I do not. But if I'm going to help you, you are going to have to trust me."

"But you're not _you _anymore!!" The sudden, frantic vehemence of the words, choked with sobs that could no longer be repressed, astounded the young doctor. "You said you were, but you're not! You said you were, but I _know _you're not…_why _don't you remember? _Why_??!" ….And the rest, if there was any more left unsaid, was lost in a torrent of tears, catching in the narrow chest in painful hiccups, unbridled agony.

There was not even a moment of hesitation before Myojuan reached out to the boy, took him by the shoulders and pulled him tightly against his own chest. There was no more fear that a touch could injure this little bird with the clipped wings, no more self-conscious concern that such personal, emotional instincts would be seen as something twisted and dirty. All he knew was that, more than anything now, Ryuuen needed contact with someone real, someone warm, someone stronger than he was. 'Just enough' was nowhere near enough, and he knew that now. The child needed all that he could get.

"Shhh," he whispered, cradling the shaggy head against him as Ryuuen's arms locked around his waist, small fists curling into his pale green shirt. "Shhhh, it's all right…I told you, didn't I; you're not alone. You're not alone. For as long as you're here, I'll be here with you. No matter what you say, I won't leave you."

And he meant it.

That boy needed to cry. Probably the best thing that could have happened, Myojuan thought; nature's exorcism, a good cry. And hell's wounds, did he ever make the best of it, poor kid. 

It lasted for well over ten minutes; but if Myojuan were any judge of emotion, he could have sworn that, by the end, the anguish had turned to relief. Which was excellent, since that meant his actions had been successful. When there were no tears left to be shed, and the quiet embrace had done all it could, Ryuuen pulled back slowly to stare at his protector with solemn, swollen eyes. A slight flush of embarrassment spread across the pale cheeks as he swiped at the wetness on his face.

"All right?" Myojuan inquired.

Ryuuen nodded, making a valiant but shaky attempt at a grin.

"Do you think you'd like to tell me about the things that are bothering you?" 

Slight hesitation.

"Maybe tomorrow?"

Biting his lip, the boy gave a careful nod, his expression almost apologetic.

"That's all right; that's fine," Myojuan assured him. "You need time to think about it, to figure out how to explain things, am I right?"

This time, the nod was quicker, grateful.

"Of course you do…of course." He tucked a lock of straggly hair behind Ryuuen's left ear with the tenderness of a concerned father. "Do you think you could eat something? Something small, like…a piece of bread, maybe?"

The violet eyes trailed off to the side in thought, until finally, nibbling at his lower lip, he looked up again and moved his head in accord. 

"Good boy," said Myojuan warmly, pleased. "You need to keep your body healthy, you know, so I can concentrate on what's up here." He tapped Ryuuen's forehead lightly with his index finger, receiving a small grin for his pains. "I'll tell the nurse to set you up with some bread and butter…and good bread, too! Not the crummy store-bought kind that everyone is so fond of." The grin deepened slightly at his sarcasm, and he offered a wry smile of his own. 

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

True to his word, he made the nurse—Ruth, her name was; Ruth Gainsley—promise to make a special effort for decent bread. He filled out his forms in the small cafeteria, the _doctors' _cafeteria, sipping Darjeeling Blend and going over all that had happened again and again, attempting to make parallels to cases he had studied in the past. He had nearly finished his first session evaluation when he spotted a small, lonely little figure in the corner; having believed himself to have been alone in the small room, this gave him quite a start. But as the stranger seemed to fairly blend into the wall, he soon shrugged it off, and nodded a hello.

Looking surprised—as if he'd thought he really _did _blend into the wall—the man raised a hand and gave a timid wave. "Doctor…Yamada?"

"That's right," said Myojuan, motioning to the seat beside him. "Please, come join me. I'm anxious to meet all the other…employees here." He'd almost said "shrinks." _That _would have been a nice welcome.

The man approached him cautiously, and slid into the chair his new coworker had indicated. He was young, perhaps the same age as Myojuan—thirty years old, or thereabouts—with large, deep brown eyes and brown hair that looked like it had been slicked down, but still stuck up in parts. 

"Y-you must forgive me for not alerting you of my presence," he said, contrite. He sounded British; by his accent, Myojuan would guess, from somewhere in the south of England. "I actually must be off in a moment or two, and I…I didn't know which would be ruder: to not say anything at all, or to say hello and then rush off."

"Don't worry," said Myojuan congenially. "Busy schedule. I can sympathize."

"You seem quite sympathetic," agreed his new acquaintance. "You've spoken to your young patient, after all. R…remarkable, really." He smiled shyly. "He's, um…he's been here a week, did you know? A…a week already, and nothing's worked."

"Yes, so I've heard. I'm sorry, what's your name?"

He looked horrified. "Oh!! I'm so…I'm terribly sorry. Barrington. But…if you'd like to know a secret, I don't really like that…the last name epidemic, I mean. It's impersonal. Dr. Lewis does it because it sounds official, I think, but I'd much prefer it if you'd call me Freddie."

"In that case, you can call me Myojuan."

Barrington blinked. "That's…a bit of a mouthful, isn't it?"

"So you've met with my patient? With Ryuuen?" Myojuan said, remembering what Lewis had told him the day before. 

The small man nodded. "Oh, yes."

"And you didn't have any luck?" In truth, the larger doctor had trouble believing that this timid mouse of a man could be a psychiatrist at all. But Lewis had said he was one of the best, hadn't he?

With a shrug, his companion shook his head. "Well, it's…it's a delicate case, as I'm sure you know. It must be difficult for him; it's a pity he has to be here at all."

Myojuan nodded his agreement, staring into his nearly empty Styrofoam teacup. A pity; yes, to put it bluntly and briefly. Poor child…

"It's always a bit jarring, I'd imagine, and rightfully so," Barrington continued musingly, "when the label of mental disorder is stuck irrevocably upon those who are perfectly sane." 

~*~

__

Blackbird, fly  
Blackbird, fly  
Into the light of the dark black night

TBC… ****

Notes: I apologize for any melodrama you have found in this chapter. ~.~() Seeing as it is, once again, a little after 5:00 in the morning (something about this fic! Dude, I dunno…), it probably couldn't be helped. If it bugs anyone, or if anyone **ahemahemcoughcough, RyuenKaze-chan, coughcoughgagchoke** has any suggestions for editing, I will gladly edit. ^_^ Anyhoo, thanks for reading! Have fun, everybody!

****

Mits: Hmm. You seem to be trapped in a chapter formula.

****

Me: Ehhh? ~.^

****

Mits: It goes Part With Ryuuen, and then Meet New Doctor. For the past two chapters, that's what you've done.

****

Me: It was a coincidence! And I wouldn't complain! At least I'm writing a fic about you!

****

Mits: --;

****

Nuriko: Do I get to kiss Hotohori-sama in this one??? **big puppy eyes**

****

Me: Ummmm, Iunno…we'll see.

****

Nuriko: _Pweeeeeeeeeeeeeease?????_

****

Me: Go away.

****

Nuriko: g.g **runs to Kaze-chan for comfort**

****

Kaze-chan: **gloats** Ahaha, I got Nurikoooo!!!!

****

Ryuen: Uh-huh, and why, pray tell, did Nuriko not run to _meeeee??_

****

Me: Because you spell "Ryuen" with only one U. ^_~

****

Ryuen: Indeed.

****

Freddie: Erm, excuse me…I'm not a reincarnated seishi, ehhh, am I?

****

Me: No. You're just cool.

****

Freddie: ^____^n

****

Kaze-chan: You realize, you've pretty much wrecked the mood of your serious fic with this silly script at the end.

****

Me: It's five o'clock in the freakin morning!!!! I'm not responsible for my actions.

****

Hotohori: **appears randomly to smooch Nuriko, just because I have omnipotent author powers**

****

Nuriko: Ehehehehehehehe!!!!

****

Everyone Else: --;;

****

^_^ I'd like to thank the Coca~Cola company and whoever the heck decided to put caffeine in over-the-counter soft drinks for the above inexcusable spazziness. 


	4. The Question

****

Disclaimers: I have Valentine's Socks!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But no Nuriko. And no Mits. And no Beatles song. The new song…I dunno who it's by. ^^;; But it's not mine, either. Hehe.

****

Warnings: Ummmm….psychological stuff. **shrug**

****

Notes: Ummmmmmmm….I'm too tired to think of notes!! **collective gasp** Gomeeeen!!!

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Four:

The Question

Myojuan suddenly realized that he had lost the feeling in his entire right hand. After a few moments of silence, he turned to Barrington, who was fooling around with a small, pink packet of Sweet&Low. The man's thin eyebrows were drawn together in thought as he turned the thing round and round between his fingers, soft brown eyes watching it spin with mild intensity before letting out a small "Hmm," and slipping it back into the white sugar bowl with its siblings. "Not a great fan of this. Of course, nothing is a very good substitute for _real _sugar, but in a pinch, I prefer the other kind…the blue packets. Equal, yes, that's it."

"Ex…cuse me?" the new doctor croaked. 

"Equal. The sugar substitute…Phenylalanine, or what have you. Don't you think it tastes more like real sugar than the competition?" He picked up the Sweet&Low again with one slim, pale hand and waved it slightly in the air. 

"That's…not _exactly _what I meant," Myojuan said, waiting for a hidden camera to pop out from behind the plastic cafeteria plant and announce that he'd been part of a candid Equal commercial shoot. "What do you _mean_… 'perfectly sane?'"

Barrington gave him a blank look. "Beg pardon? …Ohhhhh, your _patient_, yes, yes; well, hmm. You've obviously read his files." He offered a small, apologetic grin. "I have, as well, naturally…so…what does it say is wrong with him, exactly?"

Drumming his fingers once on the cool surface of the table, Myojuan launched into the list. "He won't eat…"

"Which could be a physical disorder, am I right?"

The larger man blinked. "But…"

"I told them that. Well, I tried to, at least. I got him to eat something, but his stomach couldn't take it. Attempted to make known that it was a physical reflex, but everyone wanted to believe it was self-induced, soooo…" he shrugged. "And, well, majority rules, I suppose."

"It also said…sexual identity issues?"

"Which is a _complete _load of crap," smiled Barrington cheerfully. "Every teenager in America, and most other countries, too, goes through such a stage. And even if it isn't just a stage, well…the world is full of transvestites and drag queens, the normal proportion of whom are all perfectly sane. Except for that J. Edgar Hoover fellow, but he was _hardly _what one would call _normal_. But really, it's nothing to put someone away for, now, is it? And then what? Delusions, hallucinations…"

Myojuan nodded.

"Well…I don't know if he really sees things or not, I really don't. All I know is, if he does, he's awfully quiet about it. Usually, patients who have hallucinations…well, they'll have nightmares, they'll see terrible things and ramble on and on…but that's far from the case, as I'm certain you've discovered."

__

He doesn't KNOW if he really sees things or not? 

He opened his mouth to ask the little man if he was one of those "new-fangled" doctors that believed in the supernatural. He didn't want to sound scornful, but he was afraid he would, and managed to stop himself before he managed to alienate this incredibly strange but friendly coworker of his.

"Ah! Well, I…I've got to be off," said Barrington suddenly, rising briskly. "Have my own session to attend to. Interesting case, as well, though I don't think I've been as lucky as you, my friend. That you were able to make that lad talk in _one day_…now, that's really something to be proud of, you know. You, ahh, done for the day? Is young Ryuuen your only patient?"

"That's right…yes."

"Well, perhaps that's for the best…he certainly needs the attention," the Englishman said in approval, gathering up his things and throwing a wobbly smile at his fellow doctor. "It was a…pleasure meeting you, and may our paths cross again soon."

Standing as well, towering over his companion, Myojuan returned the smile and shook Barrington's hand. He watched the man head out the door, then sat again, mulling.

He'd told Ryuuen, promised him, in fact, that he did not think he was insane. The lie had come quickly, a desperate reassurance, a ploy to get the boy to talk. There had really been no question in his mind that his patient was suffering from serious mental disorders. It had been right there, in black and white, right on the papers. But now, after what Barrington had said…the slightest shadow of doubt had been cast upon his clean-cut perception. 

He didn't know the other doctor, and therefore, it would be naïve to trust his word. But that did not change the fact that the tiniest of possibilities had been embedded in his brain, the tiniest hint of a question, and the nagging, troubling thought that…maybe Barrington was right. 

__

But that's nonsense. Ryuuen was looking at me, and thought I was someone else. Clearly…

Clearly…

But it wasn't clear. Perhaps he looked a great deal like someone Ryuuen had known; it was certainly possible! And although the boy was most definitely in a state of emotional and mental strain, there _was _the possibility that the level of his neurosis had been exaggerated. Especially considering that no one had been able to _talk _to him about it yet.

It all made Myojuan's head spin, but only encouraged him even more strongly to get to the bottom of whatever haunted the lad. 

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

Still, Tama did not understand. Cats were indeed strange, whimsical creatures.

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

"Can I have some pizza?" was the first thing Ryuuen said when he entered the room the next day. The boy was in his normal position facing the window, arms around his knees, but he had actually _turned _when Myojuan had entered the room, and looked up at him with eager, violet eyes.

Myojuan paused in the doorway, eyebrows shooting up at this sudden mood transition. "Um, well…did you…eat what Nurse Ruth brought you yesterday?"

He gave a tiny nod. "I ate some of it, and I didn't throw up. And then this morning they brought me a waffle, and I didn't throw up." 

The big doctor smiled warmly. "Well, I'm glad, Ryuuen. That's wonderful. You didn't even feel sick?"

A sheepish look crossed the still-pale face. "Ummm…I did a _little_. But it wasn't bad."

"And now you're ready to tackle pizza?" Myojuan chuckled.

"The food here sucks," said Ryuuen disapprovingly.

"Hm. Well, I'll see what I can do." He moved to take his normal place on the bed. "Did you sleep well?" He thought he saw a slight hesitance in the nod that followed, and decided to follow up. "No nightmares? Nothing like that?"

The purple head shook. "No, I…I don't have nightmares. Not usually. Do you have a pet?"

__

Whoah, nice try, little boy. But you're not going to change the subject quite that easily. The cheerful demeanor, the sudden turn for the garrulous…it didn't fit. It was _too _sudden, and betrayed the one who had clung to it. He could see the boy straining, if he looked carefully…it was far from obvious, but he could tell. To demonstrate that he wasn't being fooled, he folded his arms across his chest and fixed Ryuuen with a skeptical eye. 

The large eyes immediately grew serious, the smile fading away. "I don't have nightmares," he repeated firmly. "Truly. Swear on the wings of Suzaku-seikun." One small hand went to his breast in an age-old gesture of earnestness. 

"You said you were going to try to explain things to me today," Myojuan reminded him. "Have you thought about it?"

"You have a cat, right? You're a cat person."

"Ryuuen."

"Do you have a girlfriend, too? You seem like the kind of guy who'd…"

"_Ryuuen_," he said, a bit more harshly than he'd intended. The boy's mouth snapped shut, and he jerked back slightly in the chair with a startled blink. _Gee, that's just GREAT, _he berated himself._ Wonderful tactic; SCARE the kid, that'll keep you on his good side. _Quickly, he altered his tone. "Please," he said gently, inclining his head toward his charge. "Have you thought about it?"

The slim jaw clenched, the eyes tore away, and Ryuuen shook his head violently. His doctor, at first, took the action at face value…he _hadn't _allowed himself to think of it, perhaps. But this assumption was overridden when he spoke, in a voice far displaced from his former cheerful chirping. 

"Can't."

It was a broken, weak whisper, and the head did not stop shaking. Ryuuen had, once again, adopted his defeated, defensive, slump-shouldered look; his face had abandoned its mask of composure, and he was once again a hurting, hopeless, fragile child. Myojuan struggled with words, found them—for the millionth time—slow in coming…but the silence seemed to speak for him.

"Can't tell you. I just…I just…you won't understand me. I thought about it, I really did, _really_, but…"

"Ryuuen." _Ah, Voice. Finally decided to grace us with your revered presence. _"What are you afraid of?"

No response, save heavy, slightly panicked breathing. But at least he had grown still. 

Myojuan smiled reassuringly, even though he knew well that the boy couldn't see it, and craned his head closer, on the off chance he _would_. "Do you think, whatever you tell me, it would be any stranger than some of the other crap I've heard?" he joked kindly. "For instance…one of my patients a few years ago was convinced that her spoons were plotting to kill her. I'm not kidding," he asserted, mouth twitching upward, as the violet eyes flickered toward him briefly, tinted with skeptical surprise. "It was… quite frightening. Now. Can you beat that for weirdness, do you think?"

A moment of hesitation, and suddenly, Ryuuen's hands seemed to fascinate him. When he made no effort to move or reply, Myojuan decided to take the initiative; reaching out slowly with his left hand, he touched his fingers to Ryuuen's right cheek and softly drew the face around to look at him. Once the head had turned—although the eyes still did not raise—he covered the entire cheek with his large hand, surprised at what a giant he seemed compared to his patient. He knew he was bigger than most, but compared to this boy, he was positively _enormous_. Gently, he stroked his thumb beneath Ryuuen's right eye, trying to coax some eye contact out of him. 

It worked. And once again, Myojuan was astonished at the depth of the anguish he saw shining behind those fearful irises.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered, still painfullyconfused at the prospects of what could possibly have happened to evoke such behavior. Although he had tried hard to stay away from assumptions, he had not been one hundred percent successful in his attempt, and, to tell the truth, he was leaning toward some kind of emotional abuse…perhaps even sexual abuse. It wouldn't have been the parents…no, that wouldn't make sense, because they had put him in therapy, and probably would not have done so if they'd been the cause of his troubles, from the fear that it would come up in the session. But some relative, or a friend… He made himself repress the sudden feeling of pure rage that swelled through his veins at the mere thought of someone hurting Ryuuen.

The boy, meanwhile, was studying him hesitantly, clearly torn; as Myojuan pondered the situation, keeping half of his attention on Ryuuen and half on the spinning thoughts inside his head, he was yanked back into the present by yet more feeble words.

"You have to promise," the small voice trembled, the fine eyebrows squeezing together. "Promise…you won't leave. If I tell you, don't leave…don't leave me alone." He looked so desperate, and almost as if he was certain that Myojuan would, in fact, abandon him as soon as he spilled. Although the big doctor had promised several times already to stay with the boy for as long as possible, he did not pause before assuring Ryuuen that, of _course_, he would stay with him.

"Nothing you can tell me will make me leave you," he said solemnly, and saw a tiny spark of hope in the large eyes…vague hope, as if Ryuuen were frightened that the only thing that could come of hoping would be that hope being cruelly and completely smashed.

But, he seemed to take heart from the comforting statement. Letting out a shaky, nervous breath, he closed his eyes once more, and, after a few false starts, began to speak…

~~*~~  
_Dans mes rêves, j'entends une voix  
Qui me dit « Ne pleure pas »  
Quel dommage, mes yeux sont des sources claires._

(Trans : In my dreams, I hear a voice  
That tells me "Don't cry"  
What a shame, my eyes are clear springs)

****

TBC…

Notes: Okay…so, if anybody has comments about how this version of a psychiatric institute is total BS **looks pointedly and pleadingly at Roku-chan** please do not hesitate to tell me, and I will amend my heathen ways. ^_~ Hope you guys liked this! Have fun!


	5. The Confession

****

Disclaimers: Party. Party. I went to a party once. What happened? Nothing. Not even ice cream.

(I didn't feel like doing a disclaimer thing, so I just inserted a Marx Brothers quote. **nodnod** The two are, in fact, interchangeable.)

****

Notes: Whoah, back to Blackbird! It's been a while, ne? Well. Here it is again. **points** And I wanna give a big thanks to Kells Hanyou, who kept pushing me to write more of this fic…I'm sorry it wasn't here sooner! Inspiration is weird, ya know? Who knows when it will next strike. Anyway, Kells, many thanks for liking this story enough to keep rooting for it even when it was in a rather stagnant state. ^____^ Hope you guys like this. ^^;;

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Five:

The Confession

"Are…are you religious?" 

Myojuan was so startled by the sudden question that it took him quite a while to react. He stared cooly at his patient, expressionless, until Ryuuen risked a wincing peek. Swallowing, the big doctor moved a thick eyebrow and folded his hands, trying to appear at ease. "Well…I suppose not, no. Is that a problem? Would you rather talk to someone who's a bit more…" _Word? Word? _"…spiritual?" He flinched inwardly at the dramatic tone of the phrase, pondering the meaning of the question and hoping the child did not consider himself to be the second coming of Christ, or something along those lines.

But Ryuuen only shook his head briefly, the corner of his mouth curling up in a slight smile. "No, it…it's not that important, I guess. It just…might make it easier to believe me."

__

Don't think you're the messiah. Don't think you're the messiah. It would be so simple, and yet…so…anticlimactic.

"I, um…" the boy began again, fidgeting with his hands, "well, hmm. Okay…okay. Ever since I was really little…I've had these…" His wide eyes searched the room for inspiration, comfort, or escape, one of the above. "…Memories."

When he hesitated before elaborating, his doctor urged him on. "Memories from when you were a baby?" It was unusual, certainly, but there were some who could remember as far back as the womb. But what would that have to do with…

"Mm." Ryuuen shook his head, still focused on his fingers. "Before that."

__

What the hell? The Memoirs of a Sperm?

"You mean, from a past life?" his subconscious made him say. He thanked God for his subconscious, as the sperm comment probably would not have gone over well.

"I was…a warrior," his charge was whispering to his hands. He was smiling sweetly, wistfully, rubbing his right thumb slowly over his left palm as if he had forgotten there was someone else there. "I was one of a group of seven, chosen to protect Suzaku no Miko when she arrived…I was one of seven. And I remember so clearly…their faces, their voices, the feel of their hands in mine…" Closing his fist gently over his thumb, he sat with his hands clasped, studying them with a fading smile, the wistful features slowly dissolving to sorrow. He shut his eyes. "I miss them. I…I want them back, because we all should be together. That's the way it's supposed to be."

The explanation slid over Myojuan like a cool, thick breeze, settling itself in his mind. And every logical bone in his body was stating quite firmly that, clearly, the boy was suffering from…suffering from…

But his bones, he realized, didn't know squat. The logic simply would…not…fit.

"You said you'd call me Nuriko," Ryuuen murmured, and Myojuan realized with a start that it was now most definitely _him _who was being addressed, and not the boy's own hands. "I wish you still would."

The doctor cleared his throat. "All right. Now…can you remember what you did in this past life?" _Play it cool. There could still be metaphors in there somewhere, stuff that could explain this belief he has. Symbols. Seven warriors…seven players on a basketball team. There's a possibility. A basketball accident?_

His heart told his bones to shut the hell up.

"Yes. I remember it all," said Ryuuen quietly. "Everything. Just like it was yesterday."

"Can you…tell me about it?" he ventured gently. _If he hits a snag in his story, he might realize it's not true. It's happened before._

The boy stared into space a while longer before letting out a long breath; his shoulders seemed to sink as he gave in to the question. "I was…the son of a cloth merchant, in a city called Eiyo. The capital of Konan, the land to the south; the land protected by the god Suzaku."

Myojuan listened in awe as his patient continued to speak. He spoke of the day he had realized he was a chosen servant of Suzaku, of his close friendship with his sister, who had been killed before his eyes. Even though there was a hint of pain in his voice, he did not flinch from relating the traumatic thoughts that had caused him to adopt his sister's personality—no, her _life_—and abandon himself almost entirely.

"That's all right now, though," Ryuuen said suddenly, interrupting himself.

"What's all right?"

"Kourin." A genuine smile graced his lips. "She died in that life, but she's okay now. She's…she's still my sister. She's still alive. That part changed."

However, as the story continued, Ryuuen began to falter. As he told of the events leading to his becoming a member of the emperor's royal harem, his voice grew weaker. And when he first mentioned the emperor himself, he stopped speaking altogether, drawing his knees up and hugging them tight. Myojuan thought he looked a bit frightened, for some reason. Either that, or he was about to cry.

After a long silence, the doctor decided to give his charge some prompting. "This emperor," he said quietly, "was he a cruel man?"

__

Perhaps it's all a metaphor for reality. It's certainly a possibility. All this talk of being mistaken for a woman and becoming a member of a harem…

Perhaps someone really _had _molested the child, someone in a position of authority; that someone had made him relate himself to a concubine, a body with no control over what happened to it. Perhaps this story was the only way Ryuuen had of dealing with his abuse, trying to distance himself from it, saying it happened in the past…

…_This is making my head hurt._

But it's possible. It's possible.

But Ryuuen seemed appalled at his question, raising his head up quickly. "_No_!! He wasn't cruel, he wasn't cruel at all! Hotohori-sama was the kindest man in all the world; he was gentle and loving and wonderful, he would _never _be cruel!"

__

Oookay, then…slightly touchy subject, I see. But abuse victims are sometimes unwilling to blame the people who hurt them. They see it as their fault, not the fault of their attackers… 

"But it makes you sad to think of him, doesn't it?" His tone was still soothing; he wanted Ryuuen to keep thinking of him as a friend, a protector…someone he could trust. "It makes you sad."

The boy stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before hanging his head. "Yes," he whispered. "It…it does, I guess…"

"Why?"

A deep sigh, and Ryuuen closed his eyes. There was another long pause before he replied. "Because I…I wasn't a woman."

__

Wasn't a woman? What…He wasn't…

…OHHHHHHHHHHHH.

"You…you loved him," he stated, just stopping himself from leaping up, dancing a jig, and announcing, "Ahhhh!! You're gay! You're _gayyyyyy_!!!"

Ryuuen pressed his chin to his knees, eyebrows drawing together in pain. Moving his arms higher to hug himself more tightly, he nodded. "I…I still do," he whispered. "And…I want to find him again. I want to find _all _of you again. But I just…I don't know where to start."

__

So…neurosis on top of neurosis! So he's homosexual, and maybe confused and questioning his preferences! And he's in love with some guy who's not gay! Is that it? Is that it? Maybe that guy hurt him, too…maybe he found out and was an asshole and overreacted, and… 

But, no…there has to be more to it than that. There HAS to be. This is the first time he's even mentioned this. He's much more focused on finding his friends again, it seems…including this emperor metaphor, but not exclusively. 

Ahhhh, I don't knowww, I don't knowwwww!!

With firm orders to the medical voice inside his head to shut the hell up and stop whining, Myojuan silently regarded his patient, who appeared to be deep in thought. From his expression, those thoughts were becoming slightly depressing.

"Can you tell me more about this emperor?" was the doctor's next question, trying to maneuver things back on track. But Ryuuen shook his head.

"I…I don't want to. If that's okay. I don't…I don't wanna talk about him right now. I'm sorry."

__

Damn it. But I won't force him.

"All right," he said calmly. "That's all right. Maybe another time. What about these…seven…" _basketball players? _"…warriors? Can you tell me more about them?"

Ryuuen's eyes opened slowly and wandered off into space once more. "We…we were chosen, long before we were born, to serve Suzaku and protect the miko when she came…"

"Miko?" _Priestess_, the Japanese dictionary inside his head announced.

"She was supposed to come from another world, to gather the seishi and summon Suzaku in order to save the country," said the boy in way of explanation. "The seishi came from the stars…they were marked with special power, and each bore the symbol of their star group on their body."

Myojuan's mind raced, trying to figure out the jumble of parallels and failing miserably.

"Mine was right here," Ryuuen murmured, moving his arms to press two fingers against the left side of his chest, just beneath his collarbone. "It glowed when I used my powers. Glowed red. I was Suzaku no Shichiseishi Nuriko." The hand flattened, and he moved his palm to cover the spot, as if trying to protect it for some reason. "The others…my friends…were named after the stars, too. Chiriko. Chichiri. Tasuki and Tamahome and…Hotohori…and…Mitsukake." The violet eyes shimmered and darted over to him, studying his face as if waiting for him to say something. 

Myojuan opened his mouth to offer some sort of reassurance, thinking that that was probably what the boy was searching for; before he could speak, however, there was a scuffling in the hall outside the small room, and he gave a start.

Scuffling. Footsteps, and voices only slightly muffled by the solid door; what on earth was happening? The building was usually almost hauntingly quiet; Myojuan had only worked there for a few days, but even so, it was strange…

He turned back to Ryuuen, who had brought his head up and was listening in wide-eyed curiosity. "Stay here, all right?" he said smoothly. "I'm just going to see what's going on. I'll be right back. Stay here," he repeated, waiting for the boy's quick nod of assent before rising and slipping outside.

The commotion was coming from the common room, where the patients of the hospital would fraternize during certain hours of the day. It was stark, equipped only with a slightly battered couch, a television, and numerous tables and chairs at which he'd seen Ryuuen a few times; alone, hunched over a table in the corner and drawing. He'd have to ask to see those pictures some time. Now, though, the startled inmates were being hurried out of the room by members of the staff, their faces frightened, their mouths gaping at the sight before them.

There was a man by the window, a man whom Myojuan had never seen before, dressed in the soft white outfit that marked him as a patient. He had grabbed something—it looked like a staff of some sort—and was shaking it at the five or six doctors who had raced to the scene, threatening them and babbling as they tried to talk to him in calm, analytical voices. 

He noticed Kent standing by the hall, his arm outstretched to keep back any inmates that might try to pass, and headed over quickly, eyes still glued on the scene across the room. "What happened? Who _is _that?" he said under his breath.

Kent gave a small, abrupt intake of breath at his coworker's unexpected appearance, and sighed. "It's Freddie's patient; he just ran out here, started shaking that stick of his at everyone and rambling nonsense…he's been kept solitary for just that reason, because he's…well, gee, unstable about do it for ya? But they'll get him calmed down…they've already run for sedatives, and as soon as one of them can get close enough to him…"

It was at about that point when Myojuan stopped listening to Kent and began to realize exactly _what _the errant patient was rambling _about_. And it froze his blood in his veins.

"You don't know what's real! You can't tell me what's real! I know. I know the truth, and you can't take that away from me, you can't take it away, because it's mine! I _know _it's real; don't you tell me I'm insane, you clinical zealots! Don't you tell me I'm insane when you don't know what the hell you're talking about…"

__

Something about what he said…something about that…

Barrington was doing his best to soothe his patient, but to Myojuan, he seemed like he was almost in tears. He was pale to begin with; now, his face looked like it had been skillfully cut out of a paper plate. _He might need therapy himself, after this_, the big doctor thought wryly, momentarily shaking the discomfort he felt at the avid defense of reality given by the angry young man before them.

Ryuuen's tearful breakdown of the previous day echoed through his mind—_"But you're not YOU anymore…WHY don't you remember?? WHY??!"_—and he didn't understand, at first, why the patient with the stick would make him think of that. But then, it struck him…it was the same tone, the same lost, confused, hopeless tone…and then, from what he had heard, both this man and Ryuuen were convinced of truths that others would not readily believe. The voice of despair, of knowing something more than the rest of the world, but cursed forever by not being understood...

__

What the hell are you talking about? You're thinking as if the things they believe are true! We'll just stick you into that session with Freddie over there; maybe working with these people for so long has begun to take its toll on our own mental health…

The last few thoughts rang somewhat hollow, and as he returned to himself, he found it was because it was quiet. He blinked, refocusing on the patient who had caused all this, and found him a completely changed man; he stood rigidly, the threatening staff-like thing held almost limply in his hand. His eyes were wide, the irises clearly framed by white; his bluish hair bent down over his face; his mouth hung slightly open, as if in surprise, and his face now rivaled Freddie's for pallor.

And he was looking at something off to the side, off near the right-hand hallway…

With the rest of the doctors, who had frozen moments after the young man had fallen silent, Myojuan turned his own eyes to follow those of the patient, and there…

There, standing as rigid and still as the one who held his gaze, was Ryuuen. 

He looked small and frail in the pale light of the hall; his clothing hanging loosely, arms at his sides, eyes huge, mouth quivering slightly. Myojuan felt a flash of dismay that the boy hadn't listened to him and stayed in the room, but then…it didn't matter. It didn't matter at all. The two patients remained entranced by each other for a long moment, violet eyes locked, astounded and shaken, on brown.

And then came the voice, the soft voice, so unlike the one that had been raving about the truth just seconds ago…It was so quiet that, if Myojuan's eyes had not just flickered back to the other man, he doubted he would have heard it at all. As it was, he wasn't completely certain that he had heard it correctly, anyway; but he could have sworn it had been something impossible, something that _couldn't _be true. But the gaping mouth had trembled, and the patient had spoken, and in his heart, he knew what he had heard.

"_Nuriko…_"

~~*~~

__

Dans mes rêves, j'entends une voix  
Qui me dit « Ne souffre pas »  
Quel dommage, mon âme n'est pas de pierre

(Translation: In my dreams, I hear a voice  
That tells me "Don't suffer"  
What a shame, my soul isn't made of stone)

TBC… 


	6. The Reunion

****

Warnings: Sap, melodrama, all that stuff. Woohoo.

****

Notes: Me no post for long time! Sorry! ^^;;;; Too much going on, including battling for the computer, extra-curricular stuff, and fatigue. ^^;; Hope you like it anyway. ^^;;

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Six:

The Reunion

Time was frozen.

For the longest time, there was no sound in the large room but the steady, somewhat heavy breathing of Ryuuen and the patient who could not know him. The doctors and the guards were fixed on the scene before them like a crowd at a picture show, momentarily forgetting their jobs, their duties, in order to see what would happen next.

And then, in a flash of a moment, the ice holding the room together was broken.

It was Ryuuen who moved, suddenly overcoming the apparent heaviness of his limbs to dash forward and throw his arms around the blue-haired patient. A slight ripple of sound now spread among the onlookers, accompanied by the purple-haired boy's weak, muted sobs; Freddie's inmate had brought his own arms up, letting his staff fall to the ground with a wooden clatter, and was now hugging the boy fiercely, looking close to tears himself.

Myojuan could only watch, mesmerized and perplexed, trying to figure out this new twist of events. And failing. He'd failed a lot recently; he had never done so so often before. 

__

How is this possible? How in the name of the nine circles of Hell is this possible? That man called Ryuuen Nuriko…

Well, there's only one explanation: they must have known each other before coming here. That's it. They must have known each other, and Ryuuen told him…

But somehow, the logical answer rang false, and he didn't understand why.

When the guards, finally remembering exactly what they had been sent to do, approached with the sedative, dared to intrude upon his little patient and the new…or old…friend he had found, he straightened and stepped forward with a frown. Opening his mouth to order the men away, he found that Barrington had beat him to the punch.

"I don't think we'll be needing that," the little man said in a firm, quiet voice. "Thank you very much, however." The guards appeared hesitant, but one look at Freddie's face made them change their minds and turn away; Myojuan marveled that the usually bumbling doctor managed to evoke such obedience. He was even more surprised when Freddie addressed the other doctors: "Go on, go on, it's over now; go back to your own whatever-you-like, Myojuan and I will take care of _our_ patients."

One by one, the others dispersed, leaving only the two young men—still locked in an almost desperate embrace—and their respective doctors. The two did not seem to notice anyone except each other; Myojuan could not see Ryuuen's face, but he noticed that the boy's shoulders were trembling with silent tears…and his heart ached.

That confused him. He knew he had formed a special sort of bond with Ryuuen over the past few days, a bond that sometimes made his emotions run wild…but this was different. It was as if…he had lost something, and didn't know where to find it again.

__

Bizarre. 

"You're here."

The choked voice broke through his internal reverie, and made both him and Barrington perk up their ears to hear what the blue-haired patient was saying.

"You're here…You were here all along, weren't you?" His tone was tremulous and quiet, so quiet that the two onlookers had to strain to understand.

Ryuuen's reply was slightly muffled by his own tears, interrupted periodically by a tiny gasp or sniffle. "I'm not crazy," he said in a tiny voice. "It was all real, I'm not crazy…"

"No." The taller man seemed to tighten his grip on the boy. "We're not crazy. And it's going to be all right now; it's going to be all right, because we're not alone anymore, Nuriko."

__

Nuriko. _He said it again_. 

Ryuuen's sobs grew slightly louder, but it sounded as if he was laughing and crying at the same time, his knuckles white as he clutched his fellow inmate's shirt. Presently, the noise was joined by the unmistakable sound of more crying…quiet, but there. And he saw a trickle of light slide down the other man's cheek, disappearing beneath his chin. 

"Do you suppose they've met before, then?" came Barrington's low voice at his shoulder.

Myojuan looked down at the shorter doctor. "It's…strange," he said under his breath. "Did you hear him just now? That's what Ryuuen wanted me to call him… something about a past life. Have the two of them ever been together before, before I arrived?"

"I would assume not," Barrington shrugged, eyes widening. "Young Houjun there has been in solitary for longer than Ryuuen has been here…but hold a moment, did you say he told you of a past life?"

The big man nodded. "In fact, one where he went by the very name…Houjun? The very name Houjun just called him."

"Huh!" said Barrington, folding his arms in interest. "Curiouser and curiouser."

"They must have known each other before coming here," Myojuan said, almost to himself, turning his gaze back to the two young men near the window. They had pulled apart, and were now kneeling face to face on the floor, talking in near-whispers, their hands still clasped; Ryuuen's face was wet, but he wore the biggest, most sincere smile that his doctor had ever seen him wear. Myojuan couldn't help but smile a bit himself at his patient's happiness, despite the confusion surrounding its source.

"I'd say that's highly unlikely," his companion informed him almost cheerfully. "Houjun was transferred a month or so ago from a different hospital in New Hampshire; his parents moved to this area, and were loath to leave him behind, despite the repercussions a move could impart on his mental state. They claim he seemed stable enough at the time. But, listen, I think we ought to talk about what you said, about…what is it, past lives and all."

__

New Hampshire??? Highly unlikely, indeed…What does that mean, then?

"Go right ahead," he said in response to Freddie's proposal, still glued on Ryuuen, who seemed to be crying again, but only slightly.

"Well, it _is _strange," Barrington mused. "What you said about that, and all, I mean…well, I actually had a similar discussion or two with Houjun, one of which ended in this neat little charade just now. He claims he has memories of another life in which he was one of seven mythical Chinese warriors. He was some sort of pseudo-religious magician by the name of…what was it…mmm…" 

As the Englishman tapped a finger to his chin, Myojuan jerked his head around quickly, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets in surprise. "One of seven warriors?" he pressed urgently. "Are you sure?"

The other man raised his dark brown eyes. "Well, _he _seemed fairly certain of it. Chichiri; that was it."

"Chichiri?!"

"The name he went by in his past l…"

__

Nuriko. Chichiri. It fits with what he told me. It fits. How CAN it?? How can this feel so real? It doesn't make sense…It just doesn't…

"Freddie," he said, interrupting whatever his companion was saying. "I think…we ought to do a joint session, if that's all right with you."

Barrington nodded. "Indeed, I think that would be mandatory, considering recent events."

By the window, a pause in conversation had resulted in Ryuuen launching forward once more to hug Houjun; again, Myojuan felt the strange ache in his chest. He reached up a hand to rub absently at his breastbone. "Did Houjun ever mention anyone named Nuriko?"

"We've hardly discussed the specific details. He doesn't enjoy speaking of it," his friend sighed. "He'll insist it's real, but nothing much more than that. Generally, we focus on other things, like the…well, anyway. I suppose we ought to get them back to their rooms…although it will be a shame to interrupt their poignant reunion." 

"I don't think we should separate them just yet," said Myojuan. "I'm afraid if we do, it might be bad for both of them."

"Well, let's take them both into Houjun's room, you and I," Freddie agreed. "We'll begin the group session immediately. Small enough group, but there you are."

"Will he be all right if I approach them?" He was referring to Houjun, of course, and Freddie nodded.

"Oh, yes; he should be fine. Well…probably. Maybe. Tell you what; I'll come, too." When his fellow doctor raised a thick eyebrow at his indecision, he gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. "What can I say? As is demonstrated by the present situation, he's fairly unpredictable, eheh."

Together, they moved slowly over to stand beside the two kneeling on the ground. As Myojuan reached out a gentle hand to lay it on Ryuuen's thin, white-clad back, Houjun gave a start and jerked back harshly, pulling the clinging boy with him and snapping his head up to glare fiercely at the intruder. Heart skipping a beat at the sudden action, Myojuan opened his mouth to reassure the agitated man, and Freddie had stepped forward quickly to assist. But as suddenly as Houjun had moved, his eyes changed from dangerous to surprised, widening considerably and mirroring the bewildered expression he had worn just minutes ago, when Ryuuen had stepped in from the hall.

"It's okay, it's okay," Ryuuen said, hurriedly soothing. "He's…he's my doctor. He doesn't…" Violet eyes flickered briefly upward, drawn in apology, before he turned back to his companion and whispered, "He doesn't remember."

Myojuan didn't think he was supposed to hear that, but he did. So did Barrington, who had raised both eyebrows and was now giving the bigger doctor a questioning look. He tried to ignore both the look and the whisper, of course, as it would not do to let something like that bother him. But it _did _bother him. And, once again, he didn't know why.

__

Well. This is comfortable.

Ryuuen and Houjun were both staring at him now with sad eyes, which did not make anything better, and he frowned, because it was the one expression he could adopt without looking as if he was not in complete control of the situation. "Are you two all right?" _Stupid question. Of course they're all right, given their respective previous positions. From psychotic babbling and melancholia to calm conversation, I'd say that was a BIT of an improvement._ So, it was no surprise when both gave a small nod. "We need to take you back to your…" he began, but stopped at a frantic look from Ryuuen.

"Don't make us go," the boy pleaded quietly, winding both his arms around one of Houjun's. "We don't want to be alone; please, please, don't make us go back to being alone after so long, please…"

"Shh," Myojuan interrupted the soft babbling, stooping and returning his hand to Ryuuen's shoulder. "Dr. Barrington and I are going to keep both of you together for a while, all right? We're going to go to Houjun's room and sort things out." It occurred to him that he couldn't remember the name of Ryuuen's emperor, that it was therefore possible that Houjun was the man, and that they might want to keep a closer, ahem, eye on these two. Then it occurred to him that, by thinking such things, he was subconsciously admitting to himself that he believed the past life story, and he finally decided that he was quite insane.

Houjun and Ryuuen nodded at the suggestion, and helped each other to their feet. On the way to the solitary room, Myojuan pondered this newfound propensity toward believing the impossible, and decided to attribute it to stress. 

__

Maybe I've been thinking too hard lately. Maybe I just want to take the easy way out, and take things at face value rather than trying to interpret them logically.

__

Or maybe I AM a few marbles short of the full bag.

After all, I'm a 30-year-old single man who talks to his cat.

Freddie's patient's room was a bit less sparse than Ryuuen's, maybe because Houjun had been at Bentley Park for a slightly longer amount of time. There was a navy blue comforter on the tiny bed, bringing color to the otherwise plaster white décor and walls, and a small forest green woven rug on the floor. On a small shelf that hung near the window were several well-worn notebooks and a potted violet with a heart-shaped balloon stuck into the dirt. Myojuan and Freddie each took a seat in one of the omnipresent white chairs that occupied the patients' rooms, and the younger men, unwilling to let go of each other as if they were afraid one of them would disappear, sat at the edge of the bed, facing their doctors.

"Well!" said Freddie cheerily, but couldn't seem to think of anything appropriate to say, and grinned fixedly and expectantly over at Myojuan. 

"So…" Myojuan began, but found himself likewise stumped.

Houjun saved them, smiling sheepishly. "I should say, er…I'm awfully sorry about what happened. It was just…wearing me down, you know? Knowing I was right, having no one believe it…but I guess it worked out well enough in the end. And I suppose you'd like an explanation, right?"

"That would be nice," Myojuan agreed, relieved, as Freddie nodded vehemently.

The blue-haired patient nodded, turning to Ryuuen. "How much does he know?"

"Most of it, I guess," the boy murmured, blinking slowly, and resting his chin on his friend's shoulder, eyes half-lidded. "No specifics. But the general stuff, I told him."

__

Is this…the emperor? Myojuan asked himself bewilderedly, taking in the touchy-feely actions, the chin on the shoulder, and on and on. Houjun certainly seemed protective of Ryuuen, although…from what the boy had told him earlier, the emperor had not received him well, being another man…

__

And you're doing it again. You're losing yourself in the story they told you. It shouldn't be this hard to see through; why am I having so much trouble doing so? Why am I trapped in this past life with them? It CAN'T be true!

"It can't be true," he found himself saying, quietly, gently. "How…is this possible? I don't understand…" He felt completely ridiculous. A bigshot psychiatric doctor, reduced to turning to his own patients for answers. What kind of ironic twist was _that_? But Barrington seemed as baffled as he was, which made him feel slightly better, and Houjun and Ryuuen just smiled, the latter fairly sleepily.

"You want proof," the older patient affirmed smoothly. "Well…I don't know how we can prove it. We've never met in this life before today, so there's no way we could have dreamed this all up together…I don't know how we could go about proving that we don't know each other…"

"I told him you've come from New England," said Freddie. "I think we'll give you the benefit of the doubt…although you could have met through the internet, or as pen pals, or at a summer camp, or something…"

"Thank you, Freddie," Myojuan mumbled. "Just as it was becoming clearer."

"I never went to camp," Ryuuen piped up softly, "and my parents never let me on the internet because they caught my older brother, uhhh…looking at interesting web sites." His doctor nearly chuckled at the slight blush that spread across his pale cheeks.

"You could read those," said Houjun suddenly, nodding his head in the direction of the shelf. "I wouldn't let Dr. Barrington read them…sorry, Dr. Barrington. But I was afraid they'd use them as evidence that I really _was _insane."

"What are they?"

The young man shrugged. "I wrote it all down. Everything. I had to prove to myself that it was real, so I wrote everything down. And I'm an awful writer; there's no way I could've made it all up. I have a whole section in there about Nuriko, description and everything…It's lucky, I suppose, that we all look the same, otherwise…"

Something about his use of "all" instead of "both" snagged in Myojuan's brain, but he brushed it aside as insignificant.

"Wait; hold on one moment," he said, as Freddie made his way to the shelf. "No. Not yet. I want the story from Ryuuen first. The whole thing."

They looked up at him blankly, frozen in place.

"We have to have something to compare it to. If you write one thing and he says another, we'll know…it's just…" _What? A fluke? A coincidence? _

"I know it's real, no matter what you can prove," said Ryuuen in a small voice, lowering his eyes again before lifting them to stare intently at his doctor. 

He looked different, somehow; more confident, and definitely more stubborn. No longer lost, but found; and suddenly, _Myojuan _was the one who was lost. Suddenly, it was they who were in control, and himself and Freddie who floated along on the sidelines…and he didn't know what to make of it, could do nothing but sit and take it all in, overwhelmed at the abrupt change in roles. 

"We both know it's real now," the slight boy continued, soft but firm. "And we'll make you remember, too."

__

~~*~~

Mais les voix de mes phantômes  
Ne connaissent pas la douleur de l'homme  
Pourtant les cloches m'announce toujours  
Mon vrai destin  
Mon vrai destin

(Translation: But the voices of my ghosts  
Do not understand the pain of man  
As the bells eternally announce to me  
My true destiny  
My true destiny)

****

TBC…

Ehehe…ahhh, it's so dramatic and it might not make sense, but I'm tired. ^^;; I'll fix stuff in the morning, okay? ^^;; I'm sure there's lots to fix. ^^;; Thanks for reading, though ^_^


	7. The Solution

****

Disclaimer: --; shut up.

****

Warnings: Sap, angst, sap, melodrama…--;;; yeah. That's about it. 

****

Notes: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii, guys! **wavewave** Whazzaaaaaaaaaaaaap? Rob Lowe is leaving West Wing for salary issues!!……..well, that's what my brother announced directly after I typed "whazzaaaaaaaaap," so therefore…that's what's up!!! ^^;;; Sure. Yeah, Mouse-chan; whatever. Been out in the woods for a month and a half and ya start going mad! Mad, I say!!!! And speaking of mad, here's the psycho story!!! 

(Ne, Ryuen…don't lose too much eye juice over this one. :P :P :P )

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Seven:

The Solution

Myojuan was seriously considering buying a satellite dish.

Of course, he didn't indulge in brainless television very often. When he did, however, it was a necessity, a mindless void he could take solace in if ever the world was taunting him. And the world was _most certainly_ taunting him. What with Ryuuen and Chichiri and his own suspended belief, he figured he must have done something pretty awful.

__

If only I had Animal Planet, he thought wistfully, believing that a little Steve Irwin would do him a world of good just then. But alas, it was not to be, as the gods had shut down his accidental free cable over a month ago. He couldn't help but feel a bit betrayed.

The story Ryuuen had told, of his pre-incarnation adventures in the Magical Land of Oz: China, had lasted well into the night. It was a tale of friendship, deceit, love—Houjun was not the Emperor, as it turned out—hate, destiny, magic…the good stuff, the like of which could only be found in fantasy novels and Japanese cartoons. The boy's small face had been trapped in his story; he had laughed and cried at the anecdotes he related, most of which concerned himself and a person named Tasuki who was apparently rather tactless.

"He was always so tough and even a little cynical," Ryuuen had said, a new sheen of tears hovering over his eyes as he smiled. "But in spite of it all…he really cared about all of us. Not that he'd ever admit it." And Houjun had smiled, too, looking with unfocused eyes at the past. Or, what he believed to be the past.

One story had touched the big doctor's heart, touched it above the others. One of the seven warriors had been a man named Mitsukake, who had lost his beloved to a strange disease; he had been a doctor, and when she had fallen ill, he'd been elsewhere, helping someone else. The bitter irony of it all tugged at Myojuan, made his chest ache somehow, with no reason. Perhaps it was the sadness in Ryuuen's little voice as he related the tale, or the way that the boy had kept his head tilted down, eyes lowered, obviously drawn into his emotions. That had to be it: he hated to see Ryuuen sad, and that story, above the others, seemed to have had an especially poignant effect on him. 

He couldn't begin to explain why, since Mitsukake otherwise seemed to be pretty darn boring. He'd let the sadness of his girlfriend's death completely overshadow his life, denying himself happiness; if the man were one of his patients, Myojuan would give him a good shaking and tell him to _get over it_, for crying out loud!

Myojuan. Get a grip. Recall your mind from whatever planet it has decided to visit. You're thinking about him as if he were a real person, with real problems! He. Is. NOT. REAL. He's a character in a fantasy. A child's fantasy. It's not real…how COULD it be real? 

Glancing over at the kitchen table far, far away, he let his gaze rest on the pile of worn notebooks that had burdened him all the way from his office to his car. He'd know soon enough, he supposed, if the story was a fantasy or…or…

The look in his eyes, in both their eyes…They don't look like they're insane. That woman with the spoons, she had a wildness to her eyes that Ryuuen and Houjun don't have… 

Thankfully, Tama interrupted the burning worries before they could become too severe, curling his body around Myojuan's left leg and purring, leaving a nice little trail of cat hair on the dark slacks. The doctor absently reached down to scratch his little friend behind the ears, sighing. Houjun's notebooks would take him a long time to read, longer even than it had taken Ryuuen to speak aloud, because Ryuuen's "memories…" they stopped abruptly, about half-way through the adventure, according to the older patient.

Stopped abruptly. _Too_ abruptly. And hauntingly so.

"I didn't…I didn't mean for it to happen," Ryuuen had said, his voice shaking beyond his control. Houjun's reaction to the tearful apology had been to immediately grab Ryuuen, almost roughly, by the shoulders, pulling the smaller body toward him. A trembling hand had pressed the violet head against his neck, the other arm latching tightly around the boy's slender back. Ryuuen's eyes were closed, his eyebrows drawn together firmly, as if fighting tears…but the battle was lost, and twin streams of silver seeped out from beneath his lashes.

For a while, there had been only the sound of labored breathing. Then, in a choked, thick voice, Houjun had broken the relative silence: "None of us did, Nuri-chan… No one could have foreseen that happening. Not to you. Not to you."

And Myojuan had felt tears rising in his own eyes, for he understood, somehow. He didn't know how. But he understood Houjun's outburst; he understood why Ryuuen's story had to end before it was resolved. 

The child had died.

He sighed again, running a hand through his short, black hair and tilting his head back to rest against the sofa. For some reason, he pictured Ryuuen dying on a mountaintop somewhere, cold, covered with blood and snow…but he'd read the truth soon enough, whenever he worked up the willpower to collect the volumes from the kitchen. Freddie had not argued when he had asked to be the first to read them, but Myojuan still felt a bit guilty, being as it was that Houjun was Freddie's patient. But it was Ryuuen's sanity at stake, Ryuuen, for whom he had come to care like a son in just a few short days. For Ryuuen's sake, despite the overwhelming effect it might have on his doctor's own sanity, Myojuan almost hoped that the fantasy was real.

He wondered what would happen if it wasn't.

I should get started. It's not getting any earlier, he told himself. 

Instead of doing so, however, he allowed his mind to bring him back to the end of Ryuuen's story, when the hospital was close to closing and the time had finally come to separate the boy and his companion. Ryuuen hadn't wanted to leave Houjun's side, not even for a moment, and again had wrapped both of his pale arms around one of Houjun's and looked at his jailers with panicked violet eyes… 

___

"Can't we…can't we stay together? Please, can't we?"

Myojuan and Freddie shared a helpless look, and Houjun, probably well aware of the rules, simply rubbed Ryuuen's shoulder without saying a word, trying to comfort him. It had been a long session; all four of the participants were weary, the signs of which were visible beneath four sets of eyes.

"It, ahhh…it's…" Freddie finally said, and sighed despondently, looking near to tears himself. "It's against the rules, you know. Sharing. Er…sharing bedrooms, that is, patients sharing bedrooms… Isn't it, Myojuan?" The Englishman shot his coworker a desperate smile.

The bigger man nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so," he said gently. "It's against hospital regulations, especially since one of you has been confined to solitary." Houjun's eyes fell in a glimmer of embarrassment, and Myojuan ached for him; he opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing seemed to matter. If it had been up to him, then by all means, the two young men who seemed to draw so much from each other could remain together, for as long as possible.

"It'll be all right, you know," Houjun said soothingly, covering Ryuuen's small, clinging hands with his own and stroking lightly with his thumb. "What's another night, after all, when we've lived so long without reunion?" With a smile that Myojuan suspected was mostly for show, he wiped at the boy's eyes with his sleeve. "I'm not leaving. I'll still be here in the morning."

Ryuuen shook his head sadly. "What if it's not real? What if I'm dreaming, and I never found you, after all? I don't wanna go to sleep, Chichiri; I'm afraid to, if I do it might wreck everything…"

Yet again, Houjun drew the nearly frantic boy into his arms, hushing him. "I'll tell you a secret," he said quietly, after a short while. "I'm a little scared, too." Ryuuen gave a little whimper and moved his arms up the other patient's back to squeeze him more tightly; the blue-haired young man quickly placed a hand on the trembling back to calm him. "Shh. I'll tell you another secret. As many times as I've dreamed about finding one of us again…as many times as I've woken up to find myself alone again…I honestly, truly believe that this time, it's for good. It feels different, doesn't it? Different than just a dream. Different in your heart." 

Sniffling, Ryuuen nodded against the older man's cheek. Houjun patted him once on the back before gently drawing away, leaning back so he could look the boy in the eye.

"I promise," he stated clearly, softly. "I promise, I'm not going to leave; I'm not going to fade away. When you come to our session tomorrow, I'll be right there. I promise. Okay?"

Ryuuen hesitated before nodding, but the reassurance did not stop his tears from falling, and he wrapped his arms around Houjun's neck once more. And before Myojuan's vision, there came a sudden flash of white.

He drew back sharply with a gasp of surprise as the thing attacked him, blinking in order to focus…and when he did, he discovered that what he'd believed to be some sort of small, white, nose-eating demon was, in fact, a handkerchief. A few subsequent moments were spent blinking at the thing before Myojuan turned his head toward Freddie, who, as it turned out, was the one holding it. The English doctor's face was a mask of innocence, peering up at Myojuan expectantly; with a start, the big doctor realized that he was, indeed, crying, and had every need of a handkerchief such as the offered specimen. Freddie, however, coughed into his fist and turned his face away discretely, perhaps in order to save his friend from embarrassment. Rolling his (now reddened) eyes, Myojuan finally accepted the white piece of cloth, whereupon Freddie finally lowered his arm.

"Thank you," Myojuan said pointedly, perhaps a little more firmly than he should have. But Freddie just smiled his mad little Englishman smile, and told him to keep the handkerchief.

___

They had finally been able to separate the two patients, and Myojuan had walked a worried, fretting Ryuuen back to his own room. With a word of goodnight and another reassurance on the doctor's part, earning him a small, uncertain smile from the boy, he was off to the staff cafeteria to meet with Freddie about the situation and the notebooks. And now, here he was, avoiding the very papers he had begged for in favor of syndicated episodes of Wheel of Fortune.

If only he had R-S-T-L-N-E, he thought philosophically, maybe he'd have been able to make more sense of the situation.

__

I REALLY should take a look at those books…

Famous last words, as usual, for no sooner had the urgent, nagging thought graced his mind than he fell into an exhausted sleep, the Wheel of Fortune itself spinning round and round in his head.

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

Something was…_licking _him.

Myojuan scrunched up his face in his half-awake state, bringing up a hand to swat whatever it was away. His molester purred, unimpeded, and responded by curling itself around the doctor's head. A mouthful of fur was enough to send him fully into the tangible world, and he sat up slowly, trying to extract the hairball from his tongue. 

He peered around at his small den—the television still at large, having switched to an early morning talk shows about young men falling in love with their stepmothers' goldfish, or whatever—and scratched his head. It generally took him a few long minutes to really wake up, but when he did, the recollection of what he had been _supposed _to do the night before was enough to send his head back down to the couch, a moan escaping his lips.

__

Ahh, you unprofessional excuse for a psychiatrist…are you so frightened of reading those things that your subconscious has decided to prevent you from doing so??! He had always been diligent with his work, especially important work like this. Why did he have to choose this patient, the only one in years he'd truly cared for, with whom to slack off? 

Well, there was no helping it now. He had to get going.

He showered and breakfasted in record time, grabbing his briefcase and Houjun's journals and heading out to his car. Attempting to ignore the fact that he was becoming a definite hazard to the health of everyone on the road between his home and Bentley Park, he tried desperately to read at the wheel.

__

They say I'm crazy, it began, the handwriting crooked and apparently hasty, as if Houjun had written it in some sort of craze. _They say I'm crazy because I know things they do not, because I remember things they do not. But what I know is too vivid to be just a dream, too real to be false. I remember my pain, my thoughts, my every move and word as if Houjun were just another name, and I never really stopped being Chichiri at all…_

"GET OFF THE ROAD, YA MORON!!" _HONK!!! HOOOONNNNNNNNK!!!_

Yanking himself back into the present, Myojuan pulled hard over on the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding a collision with a passing Ford Windstar. Swearing genteelly under his breath, he gave himself a few moments until the adrenaline had flown its course through his body. So much for _that _idea. Hadn't he yelled at people for similar actions? Talking on the cell phone or eating a sandwich while driving? 

__

I've joined the Dark Side.

So, reluctantly, he set the books aside until he had safely pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Once he had entered, he attempted to read, walk, and carry his things at the same time, but this, too, proved unsuccessful, and he had to stop about every three minutes to stop his armful of papers from slipping to the ground. 

"Can I help you with that, Dr. Yamada?" came a kind voice at his side. After maneuvering around the pile of notebooks in his arms, he discovered that it was Ruth, the nurse that usually took charge of Ryuuen and the other patients on his wing.

"Ah, no, thank you, Ruth. I think I can make it," he lied.

She gave him a skeptical look, smiling at him, but shrugged. "If you say so. You'd better hurry. Dr. Barrington said to tell you he's already started your session, for…the interest of the patients? He said he didn't think you'd mind."

Of course he didn't mind. He would have hated for Ryuuen to have been alone in his room for hours, wondering if the previous day had been a dream. "No, I don't mind. Thank you."

"Ryuuen seemed very excited this morning; he kept asking over and over again when you were coming, even though I _told _him that it would be the normal time." Her smile deepened, and she shook her head. "He's changed so much since you got here, Dr. Yamada. I'm so happy you were able to help him."

__

Me, too. "I don't know what I did that would have differed from what any licensed therapist would do," Myojuan told her, modestly and truthfully.

"Well, you must have the golden touch," Ruth said, winking at him before turning down a different corridor, off to do whatever it was she had to do. "Good luck today, Doctor!"

He headed toward Houjun's room, wondering why Ryuuen had been excited, his shame at not having done his research dissipating a bit. Maybe…ah, yes! Maybe they could read it out loud, together! That would save time, and he and Freddie could ask questions, and…hurrah! Problem solved. He felt very pleased with himself. 

He'd barely knocked on Houjun's door when it was flung open, nearly sending his papers flying _again_, to reveal a wide-eyed, beaming Ryuuen. The boy was literally bouncing on his toes, his grin threatening to split his face in two. "Do they have phones here?!" he demanded, speaking a mile a minute. 

Myojuan blinked, taking in the hopeful expression. "Yeeeees," he said slowly, "yes, Ryuuen; just like any building built after the turn of the century, we have _phones_."

His sarcasm was met with giggles. "You're so funny! You didn't used to be so funny; well, I like it. _Anyway…_" he took a deep breath, and Myojuan wondered if his patient was ever planning on letting him _enter_ the room. "I know what we have to do, I know what'll prove once and for all that we're telling the truth!…Oh, you can come in, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon…" Ryuuen backed away, finally allowing the doctor to step inside and deposit his burden on Houjun's side table. Myojuan shot a questioning look at Freddie, who just shrugged. 

"He was keeping his Brilliant Idea a secret until you came," Houjun let him know, mirth in his voice. "Now, finally, we will be enlightened."

The boy bounded over to join his friend on the bed, still bouncing. "Right! Well, okay; there's gotta be one person who remembers what happened, but remembers it from her own life, not from a past one! And if we call her, and she says it's true, then there's no way we could be wrong, because how else would we know her?"

Myojuan blinked, trying to focus. "Wait…wait, Ryuuen. Who are you talking about?"

"Ack, now you're acting like Tasuki!" The violet-haired young man hopped up to stand on the bed, placing a hand on the top of Myojuan's head and teasingly mussing his hair. "_Miaka_! We have to call _Miaka_!"

~~*~~

__

Dans notre maison, fragile et grise,  
Nous partageons la rêve de la vie  
Et la lune souriait sur l'innocence

(Translation: In our house, fragile and gray,  
We share the dream of life  
And the moon was smiling upon the innocence)

TBC… ****

Notes: Woohoo!! Sorry for the absence, but I at least have a little bit of money now with which to buy Nuriko sheets, ne? ^_~ Sorry for the overall melodrama of this chapter, ehehe…but see, what happened was this:

****

Mouse-chan: Hey, everyone!! Let's play a game!

****

Cast of FY: ?? uhhh, okay!!

****

Mouse-chan: The game is called "Let's See How Many People Can Hug Nuriko In A Five-Minute Period!"

****

All: …

Nuriko: …^_^;;

****

Tasuki: NO FUCKIN WAY!! I don't hug!!

****

Mouse-chan: **clears throat, hands him copy of Another Story**

****

Tasuki: O.O;;;

****

Nuriko: No, no; it's okay, you guys…**sniff** No one has to hug me, it's okay… really, it's okay, I don't mind…**starts to walk away, head down**

****

Mouse-chan: NOW look what you've done! Hasn't he suffered enough??!

****

Ryuen: GO HUG NURIKO!!! NOWWWWW!!!!

****

Chichiri & Mits: --;; **go over to hug Nuriko**

****

Nuriko: ^_^n

****

Ryuen: There. That's better.

****

Mouse-chan: I know!! Let's play another game!!!

****

All: **groan**

****

Mouse-chan: THIS one's called "How Many People Can Mouse-chan Make Cry in Any Given Chapter?"

****

Chiriko: Whyyyyy, oh lord??!

****

Mouse-chan: …That's good, but I don't see any moisture there…

****

Chiriko: --;;;;

****

Ryuen: Yeah…isn't it, like, a _rule _in Blackbird?? _Someone's _always gotta cry. Minimum one person per chapter…

****

Mouse-chan: Shu'up. --;

Anddddd, the Blackbird Trivia Question of the Day Iiiiiiiiiiisssssssssss:

****

Q: WHO was driving the car that yelled and honked at Myojuan?!?!?!?!

Give up?

****

A: FRODO BAGGINS, of course!! D'ya think anyone _else _can yell "GET OFF THE ROAD!!" with such clarity and grace??? ^_~


	8. The Confrontation

****

Warnings: Ehhhhhhhhhh….melodrama, Ryuuen being bipolar, crying (--;; I CAN'T HELP IT!!), denial, lalalalala. **nod**

****

BLACKBIRD

~*~

Chapter Eight:

The Confrontation

As his patient continued to bounce on the bed as if he were preparing for lift-off, Myojuan could do nothing but blink. Houjun, on the other hand, had received the idea with bewildered enthusiasm.

"Yes, yes, of course!" he exclaimed, eyes wide. "Of course; call Miaka! She _must _still be alive, it can't have been _that _long since she went into the book…and if she returned to her world after the last battle, and barring any unforeseen catastrophes, she must remember, she _must_…and Taka will be with her, and he'll remember, as well! And Yui! And Keisuke and Tetsuya!"

Ryuuen nodded vehemently, a hint of healthy color touching his pale cheeks. "Miaka Miaka Miaka Miaka Miaka!" 

The tall doctor winced, and gently untangled his patient's arms from around his neck. It was somewhat endearing, the fact that Ryuuen often behaved at a level much younger than his age. However, the more he had thought about it, the more the childlike worries and affection seemed to stem from the loneliness and emotional stunting that must have been an effect of his "memories." "H-hold on," he said, stuttering but calm, "You want me to call a total stranger…in _Japan_…and ask her if she's ever been sucked into a _book_?!"

"That's right!! Look; Miaka is the only one of us who has yet to be reincarnated. She entered the book in the body she has now, as the _person _she is now," Houjun pressed. "We know exactly where she is, exactly what she looks like. If you call her, across the world, and she understands what you're talking about, then there's your answer!"

"And if she _doesn't _understand?"

"She'll most likely leave it to the fact that you are a crazy American, and spread the anti-Western sentiment across the nation," Freddie said helpfully, "but at least we'll _know_, right?"

Myojuan sighed despondently. "Et tu, Barrington?"

"Oh, come; it seems sensible to me…"

"_This _seems _sensible_?"

"It's just a phone call, Mits!" Ryuuen said, pleading. "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease! It can't hurt, can it? And it could solve so many things! Call Miaka, call Miaka!"

"Freddie," said Myojuan, rather sternly although it was a joke, "no more Jello for Ryuuen." Freddie nodded obediently, but looked rather puzzled at the request. "Ryuuen, stop bouncing, please; you're going to wear yourself out, and your body isn't used to exertion, especially since you haven't been eating." Ryuuen slowly bounced to a halt, seeming to deflate right before the others' eyes; his smile faded at the admonition, and he looked at the floor, folding his arms in shame. It certainly hadn't been the doctor's intention to embarrass the boy by reminding him of his frail physical state, but he'd apparently succeeded wonderfully in doing so. 

__

Terrific.

He wondered exactly how much Houjun knew about his friend's condition before they'd been "reunited:" the almost dangerous depression, the starvation… But then, he realized, he knew almost nothing about Houjun himself. A glance at Freddie's patient, however, showed him a face marked with sad understanding, and he decided that Houjun had probably figured out enough for now. Anyone who so much as looked at Ryuuen would be able to see that sustenance had not been his first priority for quite some time. He thought it might be a good idea to take Houjun aside at some point and talk to him; perhaps Freddie would like to talk to Ryuuen, as well. 

At the moment, though, that damn beaten look on the boy's face was killing him. He sighed.

__

Call a girl in Japan. Well, what harm could it do? At the very least, it will let me brush up on my Japanese. His parents had both been Japanese, and neither one of them had ever really learned English. Because his family had moved to America when Myojuan had been only five years old, though, he had been subjected to the benefits of the American education system, and shoved into the English language rather by necessity. Ever since his mother and father had died a few years ago, he hadn't been able to practice his native language as much as he would have liked.

"All right," he heard himself say, "all right, I'll call her, if she exists."

The violet eyes flew up again, the wounded look erased by a slowly-spreading grin. Ryuuen sat up straighter, face bright, and said, "Really? You really will?"

__

Flaming fires of Hell. "Why not?" he said, smiling himself at the child's renewed happiness. "It can't hurt, can it? And it could solve so many things…" _For Ryuuen. I'm doing it for Ryuuen, not because I believe anything might actually come of it…_

And suddenly, he was being hugged from both sides; Ryuuen had somehow sprung from the bed _into his arms_ in less than a second, and was presently squeezing him from the left, barely containing a slew of excited giggles. And to the right…

Myojuan closed his eyes and sighed. "Dr. Barrington. Please."

Freddie blinked twice, then grinned sheepishly and removed his arms from around his fellow doctor, hurrying a few steps away and clearing his throat to regain his composure. "Ehhh…jolly good!" he said emphatically, running a hand through his mussed brown hair. "I'd say it was a wise decision, and…and I'm happy that you have made it…Yes." He nodded, cleared his throat once more, and drummed his fingers on his elbows, studying the sparse furniture in the room as if he had only just noticed it. 

Meanwhile, Houjun had reached into the big doctor's breast pocket and pulled out the tiny notepad he kept there, accompanied by Myojuan's favorite smooth-gliding pen. Before he had time to protest being pickpocketed, the blue-haired man had flipped the notepad open and begun to scribble in it. "Her name's Miaka Yuuki," he explained, not looking up from the pad. "Yuuki like Courage, not Yuki like Snow. Although, I suppose it would be Yuuki Miaka, wouldn't it? She lives in Tokyo with her mother and her brother. Her brother's name is Keisuke…"

"I don't know her mom's name, do you?" Ryuuen interrupted, chewing on his index finger, his other hand still holding fast to Myojuan's shirt.

"…No, I have no idea. Will that be a problem?" Houjun's mouth was set in a firm, determined line as he looked up, and it was evident that, if it _was _a problem, it would not remain so for long.

Myojuan sighed again, unconsciously resting his hand on Ryuuen's shoulder, and rubbed his nose. "I really don't know, Houjun, I've never _called _a perfect stranger in Japan before."

"In cases like these, I hear the telephone operator is most helpful," Freddie put in, causing Myojuan's hand to move to his forehead. 

"Look, everyone," he said, feeling tired, "I'm not going to call right this second. For one thing, it's around midnight in Japan at the moment. For another…" There had to be another reason. "We have to finish our session," he ended lamely. "I'll call tonight. I promise."

"That's true," Ryuuen sighed, adopting a thoughtful expression, still chewing on his finger. "I don't think she'd be very happy if we woke her up in the middle of the night…AH!" His eyes lit up once more, and the digit was removed. "She's probably having a midnight snack! So really, it's okay to call her! The sooner we call her, the sooner she'll see you and you don't remember us but you might remember _her_!" 

Houjun's head snapped up at that, a sudden fire shooting through the deep brown eyes; Ryuuen's fingers were suddenly stiff on Myojuan's shirt, and then, for a long time, there was silence.

They could hear carts being wheeled back and forth outside, they could hear the slightly muffled chatter of passers-by through the door…medications, instructions, laughter…but in the little room, the world might as well have been made of wax. 

__

"You don't remember us…but you might remember her!"

The first thing he felt was a sort of sinking despair, the notion having entered his mind that the child was back to rambling, back to delusions. He remembered the first day he had met Ryuuen; it was less than a week ago, but those few days seemed like an eternity now. And the next day, the day the child had first broken down…

__

"I don't know why…why I remember YOU, but you don't remember ME…"

He opened his mouth to say something, _anything _to break the silence; Houjun was staring at him almost blankly, but he could detect the pain behind those eyes…

__

"But you're not YOU anymore!! You said you were, but you're not! You said you were, but I KNOW you're not…WHY don't you remember? WHY??!"

The memory of Ryuuen's sobs, his tortured face, the complete and utter anguish that had seized control of every bit of his small body, flooded through Myojuan's mind as if the phantom tears had carried it there themselves. And something was clutching at him, like a long, bony, icy hand… something that he should have realized a long time ago.

__

He thinks I was there. He thinks I came out of that book.

…

…

__

Well, SHIT.

Trying to push the overwhelmed part of himself away, he turned to take Ryuuen by the shoulders, peering down into the now contrite and somewhat fearful violet eyes with doctorly calm. It bothered him somewhat that the boy flinched at his touch, as if expecting anger…but he let out a breath through his nose, pressed his lips together, and said, "Ryuuen…no. I don't know who you think I am, but…" He trailed off as his patient's eyes welled up with tears, the purple head jerking its gaze away from him, lower lip trembling. _He's really hurting. It really hurts him, that I'm saying these things_. The thought saddened him, but he swallowed the dull pain of the truth. "It doesn't change anything," he tried again. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be, but it doesn't change anything. I'm still here, and I'll still help you…"

"It's not me that needs help! It's _you_!" Ryuuen interrupted, snapping his head back to glare at his doctor through the tears in his eyes, and Myojuan blinked in surprise. The lip still quivered, the frame was still frail, but there was an almost desperate strength to Ryuuen now…and Myojuan didn't know why, but he was frightened. Not for himself, but for his patient.

"Nuriko," came Houjun's urgent, warning voice, "don't! Remember what I said? Just leave him be…"

"_NO_!!" the boy shouted, swinging both arms up and to either side, knocking Myojuan's hands from his shoulders. "I don't _care_!! I don't _care _if he gets mad, I don't care if he didn't remember from the start like we did… Just because it happened that time doesn't mean it'll happen with him!! He's _different_!"

"No," Houjun whispered hoarsely, and Myojuan saw that he had fallen to his hands and knees, his face twisted in anguish and fear. "He's one of us…don't turn him away, _please_…" Freddie was at his side in a flash, placing a tentative hand on the blue-haired young man's shoulder and giving his fellow doctor a helpless look.

__

Ah, crap…it's up to me, is it?

"Shhh," he said soothingly, reaching for Ryuuen's wrists and holding them firmly; the boy tried to pull away, but Myojuan wouldn't let him go. "Shhh, quiet…please, don't shout. I'll listen when you speak, but look; look at Houjun, look how upset he is." Ryuuen was breathing hard, tears of frustration and grief trailing down his cheeks, and the big doctor could almost feel the aching heart twist at the sound of his companion's panic. But he took a breath and swallowed, drawing himself up as tall as he could.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice unsteady. "Chichiri, I'm sorry. But this is Mitsukake, not Hikou. Maybe Hikou wasn't _supposed _to remember, but Mitsukake… he's a seishi, like us. Maybe something went wrong during his reincarnation, huh?" Turning back to Myojuan, tilting his chin up, Ryuuen confirmed what Myojuan had feared. "Dr. Yamada," he said, obviously attempting to sound calm, "we know you. We knew you even before we came here, because…you're one of us. You don't remember, and I don't know exactly why, but…your face, your voice, the way you talk, the way you laugh…" His voice trailed off then, but he took another breath and plunged on. "You were there, in the book. You're Suzaku no Shichiseishi Mitsukake; you _have _to be."

__

He's desperate. He's so desperate to find these imaginary friends of his…

Very slowly, very gently, Myojuan knelt on the ground, releasing Ryuuen's wrists and taking him again by the shoulders. Strangely, he felt like crying, and he could have, if he'd wanted to…but he choked the emotions back, moved his gaze from the floor to Ryuuen's torn, hopeful face…

__

Mitsukake. Look what I'm doing to him, to both of them, by denying it. How easy would it be to simply say, "Ah, yes! I remember!" and set their minds at ease? I'm sure I could muddle through somehow…

But, no. He couldn't.

__

Suzaku no Shichiseishi Mitsukake.

"No," he said slowly, as if speaking to an even younger child, and squeezed Ryuuen's shoulders reassuringly. "I'm not. I can't be."

The boy closed his eyes, biting down on his lower lip to stop his tears. "You _are_," he whispered. "You were a doctor…you had a beautiful girlfriend named Shouka, who died so young…and you could open your hand and heal things with Suzaku's light." With every word, his voice grew stronger, as if taking comfort in the memories that seemed so real to him. "You were there to heal Tasuki after Tamahome nearly killed him…You were there to heal Tamahome when the evil of Kutou drained from his body…"

"You gave your life to save the victims of the war." Houjun's shaky murmur, the older man still trembling on the floor, with one hand pressed over his face. "You found power where there was none, took it from the sky…"

"You _have _to remember," Ryuuen choked. "_Please_."

So many things, jumbling around in his head…

__

Power from the sky…

Shouka. 

It was to save Shouka. 

…But he couldn't think about them. Not here. He and Freddie needed to calm the two young men down, or there would be hell to pay when the nurses stopped in with their meds, and he thought he would fight before either one of them was sedated. Fighting with the nurses, naturally, would not land him in the good graces of Dr. Lewis and the other fellows who ran the place, and if he wanted to stay with Ryuuen…

Standing up, he collected his notepad and pen and straightened his shirt. "All right," he said evenly, attempting to fend off the misguided hope in Ryuuen's eyes. "I think our session has reached a closing point for the day. Now. I want you both to calm down…"

"You're not listening," said Ryuuen, and there was a hardness in his voice that made the tingling of fear return to Myojuan's spine. "You're not _listening_; why can't you let yourself _wake up_??!" And before he knew what was happening, before he could even draw breath to respond, Ryuuen was running to the small bathroom that took up a corner of the little room, had opened the wooden door wide…stuck his left hand at the edge of the door frame, and slammed the door with all his might. 

He cried out when it hit, staggering, as if he hadn't expected it to hurt. Houjun scrambled to his feet, and Myojuan took a few horrified steps forward, not wanting to believe what the boy had just done; Ryuuen grimaced, holding his injured hand by the wrist. It was already beginning to show angry traces of red and purple, the metal lock on the door having been placed exactly right to hit it. Even from a few feet away, Myojuan could see the indentation the steel had made, like a blue crease in the flesh, already beginning to bleed at one end; he could almost feel it throb as it twitched—or was it shaking?—but Ryuuen ripped his eyes from his wound with almost crazed pain in his eyes, and lifted his head once more to Myojuan. 

"_Heal me_!!" he shouted, face shining with tears, stretching out his hands toward Myojuan like an offering, and managed two shaky steps in his frozen doctor's direction before faltering, dropping to his knees. The frightening strength ebbed from his body in a trice, leaving just the boy in a heap on the floor. "Heal me," he sobbed, rocking back and forth on his heels, still clutching himself by the wrist. "Wake up…wake _up_!"

Houjun was the first one to reach his side, though he himself was shaking, his face a mask of stunned horror. Careful not to jar the rapidly swelling hand, the blue-haired patient put his arms around his crying friend, rocking with him and hugging him as tightly as he dared. Myojuan could tell that Houjun was trying to say something, but was impeded by his own emotions; Ryuuen repeated his plea over and over again, weaker and weaker as he pressed his face into Houjun's chest…and then, the words were replaced by tearful, muted words of apology. Houjun responded the best he could, although Myojuan couldn't make out his words.

He couldn't move for a long while after that, replaying the outburst over and over in his mind…and suddenly, he found himself studying the palm of his own left hand, tracing the lines with his eyes, and wondering…

__

If I tried, could I do it? Could I make the light come, and make his pain disappear? Bone…flesh…cloth…it's all the same, if I could make the light come…

What the hell am I talking about??

His hand began to shake, and he closed it into a fist; and Freddie was moving behind him, hurrying toward the door and stammering something about calling the medical aide... He couldn't think of that, his mind wouldn't let him. He only looked at the two patients on the floor, one nearly hysterical with sobs, the other trying to contain his own…and wondered…

__

Suzaku…if I tried…

~~*~~

__

Dans un monde plein de néant,  
Même des promesses sont du vent  
Et le soleil parfois se perd dans les nuages

(Translation: In a world full of triviality,  
Even promises are made of wind  
And the sun sometimes loses itself in the clouds)

****

TBC…

Note: There is a _reason _why Houjun is so distraught about the whole Telling Mits thing…it'll come up in the next chapter. Although most of you probably get the gist of it from this one. ^_^;;

Oh, and what's _up _with all the masochism going on in these FY fics recently??! And it's all Nuriko, too!! Man, that boy has problems. 

****

Ryuen: **comes in with ice pack for Ryuuen** ^_~ 

****

Ryuuen: I hate you!! I'm constantly sobbing in this fic, and no Hotohori in sight!

****

Mouse-chan: Calm _down, _will ya?!? Everyone'll come in sooner or later!

****

Houjun: So, what? I'm not good enough for you???!!!!

****

Ryuuen: Nono, I didn't mean thaaaaaaaat! 

****

Houjun: Hmph!!

****

Myojuan: **still staring at his hand**

****

Freddie: Oh, dear. ^^;; Look, why don't we all just…have some tea with lemon? A great deal of lemon…maybe lemonade? And some nice cucumber sandwiches; how does that sound? 

****

Myojuan: **still staring at his hand**

****

Freddie: Erm…hello?

****

Houjun: Dr. Barrington, Ryuuen has abandoned me!! And after that whole reassuring speech I gave him in Chapter Seven!!! **tragic**

****

Ryuuen: Ahh, stop being such a baby! I'm not abandoning you!!!! I just want Mouse-chan to get her act together and bring more of us into the story!!

****

Houjun: So you'll flee to Hotohori's arms when he arrives and leave me solitary, is that it?? IS IT???!!

****

Ryuuen: ^^;;;;;;;;;;;;; I'll still be your friend!

****

Houjun: **SOB**

****

Freddie: All right, then!! Who's for a game of Patience?? ^__^;;;;;;;


	9. The Explanation

****

Warnings: Ummmmmmm. It's probably dramatic. Regression, and all that fun stuff.

****

Notes: Whyyyyyyyyy must I torture my poor characters so??!! ^^;;;; 

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Nine:

The Explanation

He never got a chance to try; but then, the more he thought about it, the more ridiculous he would have felt for letting himself give in to the emotions of the moment. He had wanted to believe that Ryuuen was right, if only because it would be easier on the boy… but now, it was over; they had taken Ryuuen to the medical ward to see to his hand, Freddie had returned to see to Houjun, and Myojuan…

The session had ended, and Myojuan could have simply returned home. He could have separated his own life from that of his patient, as he had always done in the past, and just forgotten about the problems at work. But it wasn't like that with Ryuuen; it had _never _been like that. The boy's problems, somehow, were his own; they had become part of him, as well. So he stayed.

__

It's because he's so damn fragile, he said to himself, waiting in the cafeteria, drinking cup after cup of coffee—and he _hated _coffee!—and waiting for Ruth to come tell him that Ryuuen had been returned to his room. _He's so fragile, and so trusting…I don't think there's a self-righteous bone in his body, and his delusions seem so real…_

All the other patients he'd had had possessed borderline mental troubles, many of which probably existed in many other people who were able to function perfectly well. Because they had been able to afford psychiatric assistance, children were able to get needed attention from their parents or wives from their husbands, hypochondriacs were able to self-indulge and build up their resolves to be ill in some way or another. But Ryuuen…Ryuuen was real. And, unlike the others, Ryuuen didn't _have _anybody else. His parents hadn't come to visit him since his arrival, according to Dr. Lewis…and Myojuan thought mildly that he ought to call them, to tell them how their child was holding up, but he wasn't exactly sure how well he would handle it. Problem or no problem, the boy deserved far more support than that, and he was afraid he would come off sounding rather terse. 

He had been sitting for a little over an hour when Ruth appeared in the doorway and waved him over, a tired but reassuring smile on her face. He abandoned his foul-tasting beverage on the table for someone else to clean up, and hurried to her side.

"How is he? Is he all right?"

She sighed, shaking her head fondly at his urgency. "He'll heal. He broke two bones in his hand; his bones are more brittle than they should be, you know, since he's gone so long without proper nutrition. But he'll heal. He seems a little morose, he hasn't said a word since we came to get him. But I've no doubt he'll cheer up once you visit. How on earth did it happen, anyway?"

__

Will I do any good, now that I've let him down?

"It was an accident," he mumbled, remembering what they'd told the doctors. "He was in…a bit of a heated mood, slammed the door to prove his point, and accidentally caught himself up in it."

Ruth clicked her tongue in pity. "Poor kid. As if he didn't already have enough problems."

__

You're telling me, Myojuan thought dryly, but did not feel the need to voice his sarcasm aloud. The nearer they came to Ryuuen's room, the more worried he became; how would the boy react to his presence after what had happened? Would he still trust him? What if all the good he had managed to undo had come undone, and all because he'd been too conscientious to tell one little lie???

__

Don't flatter yourself. He has Houjun now; he has Houjun for sympathy, to talk to for reassurance. He'll be okay…but that means he doesn't need me anymore. And if he doesn't need me…how will that change things?

Ryuuen was sleeping when he came in, perhaps still under the effect of the anesthetic they must have given him, perhaps simply because he was exhausted. After all that bouncing around, all that excitement after so many days of immobility, combined with the stress he had undergone over Mitsukake…Myojuan wouldn't have been surprised if the sleep were entirely natural. The boy was curled up at the head of his bed, mouth slightly open, cradling the cast over his left hand to his chest; even in sleep, the doctor noted, the circles did not disappear from beneath his eyes.

He approached slowly when he saw Ryuuen shiver a little, and drew the comforter higher, tucking it over his patient's shoulder. Letting out a breath, he eased himself into the chair near the bed and leaned back. It swiveled around, and he found himself staring out the window.

__

Stars. He was waiting for the stars to come out; the first day I came here, that's what he was doing. The Stars of Suzaku…

"Mmm…" came a weak voice from the bed, and Myojuan turned just in time to see Ryuuen shift slowly, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. When the arm had been lowered, the boy squinted at him, eyelashes fluttering in the relative brightness of the room. Myojuan sat there rather guiltily, knowing that Ryuuen desperately needed to sleep and wondering if it had been his presence that had awakened him. The guilt quickly turned to discomfort when not even a semblance of a smile formed on his patient's face when he saw that Myojuan sat beside him. Ryuuen just looked up at him with wide and almost accusatory eyes, though a crease in his brow betrayed sadness, as well.

"I'm sorry," Myojuan said softly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Silence.

"I'll leave if you want; I just thought we could talk."

Silence again; Ryuuen blinked slowly and let out a shallow breath, but nothing else seemed to change.

He felt a mild surge of anger at the boy's stubbornness. "Ryuuen, don't do this. I told you I wouldn't leave you, and I only want to talk. I think it's important that we _talk_." _Shit. How can I fix this?_ Myojuan took a long breath and let it out, folding his hands in his lap. After a few moments had passed, during which the child made no effort to speak, he plunged ahead with what he hoped would be at least a moderate peace offering. "All right. You say I'm…I _was_…a man named Mitsukake, who lived with you and Houjun in a story-book world."

Ryuuen still had not moved.

"All I have to say is…well." _The TRUTH! _"I have no memories of ever being such a person." _But I took the power from the sky to save Shouka… Stop it, Myojuan. Just say it; ease his mind_. He cleared his throat. "Now. I don't know if that's because I never _was _this man, or simply because my memory is…lacking…" 

__

Wait a minute. What am I saying??? 

He trailed off, puzzled by his own words…but a tiny, shaky sigh from Ryuuen snapped him back to attention, and he looked up hopefully. Would he speak? Would he overcome the emotions that had seized control of him that morning, and be able to discuss what had happened…? 

"I want Chichiri," Ryuuen croaked weakly, his eyes newly damp and pleading.

Myojuan pressed his lips together and sighed, taking a moment before speaking again. "I'll bring him to see you," he promised, "but I'd really like to talk with you first. I know how much you want to find your friends again. But do you think you want it _too _much? Suppose your heart is so set on finding them again that it becomes too hopeful, and you see…maybe a physical similarity between myself and Mitsukake. Do you think it's possible that you want him back so badly that you see him when he isn't there?" 

__

Well. Nice to see you're back to your old logical self. Finally, a psychiatrist practicing PSYCHIATRY. _For crying out loud._

But Ryuuen's eyes shimmered, and he just _looked _at the big man, appearing so small and defeated that even the logical part of the doctor's heart began to wish that he'd just played along. The boy didn't say another word, but painstakingly rolled over in bed so that his back was to Myojuan, knees drawn up and shoulders hunched. It was a clear invitation to leave.

Myojuan's heart sank. He was back to Square One…worse off, really, because whereas at first he'd needed only to _gain _Ryuuen's trust, now he needed to win it back after it had been lost. He offered a few gentle words of farewell before heading to the door, deciding that it would probably be best to continue this later anyway; Ryuuen needed to sleep, and maybe he'd be more willing to talk in the morning. 

Stepping out into the hall, he thought he'd go find Freddie, to see if the other doctor had finished his session with Houjun. He really needed to talk to the other doctor about what had transpired between himself and the two patients, and see how Houjun was handling it…maybe the blue-haired man would have some sort of insight into why Ryuuen was…

No, but that would be impossible; they'd only met the previous day! How on earth would _Houjun _know more about his own patient than he did?? He had to get his brain to _understand _that the things that Ryuuen believed were true were _not _true, _no way, no how_. He had to ignore the itching in his left palm, because his own confusion wasn't helping things. This was a black and white issue. Black, white. Fantasy, reality. Sanity, insanity. If he didn't get his own act together, how was he supposed to help Ryuuen get through this?

__

Why is it this difficult for me to separate these things?? I should KNOW better! I feel too much of a connection with this patient, and it's interfering with me doing my job…

"Dr. Yamada!"

Myojuan looked up quickly at the cheerful voice, stopping in his tracks like a deer in headlights. There, heading down the hallway toward him, was none other than Dr. Lewis himself, eyes habitually scrunched up, smiling and waving at him. There was a stranger at his side, a beautiful young black woman with close-cropped hair, wearing a bright red cotton tank top and jeans. She gave a somewhat shy smile as they approached, studying Myojuan with curious, sparkling black eyes; Myojuan smiled back, of course, although the last thing he wanted at the moment was to be distracted from the task at hand. 

"Dr. Yamada," Lewis said again as he and the woman stopped in front of him. "How lucky you are! You're the first member of our staff, other than myself, of course, to have the pleasure of meeting our newest addition! She comes from the world of private therapy, as well, so you two must have at least a little bit in common; Dr. Yamada, allow me to introduce you to Dr. Emma Blake. Dr. Blake, Dr. Myojuan Yamada, and it's easier on the tongue if you just forget his first name altogether." He laughed sharply at his own joke.

Inside, Myojuan winced, but Dr. Blake simply smiled and stuck out her hand. "Myojuan," she said without hesitation, getting it right in one try. "Nice to meet you."

There was something deeply comforting in the fact that at least _one _woman in the world could pronounce his name. Normally, they simply tried and either burst into nervous giggles in the middle of it, or would up calling him "John," or "Moe," or something. But this woman, with her big eyes and her warm, oval face, hadn't even flinched; she'd even gotten the Japanese intonation right, something he hadn't heard since his parents had passed away!

"The…pleasure is all mine," he managed, a cliché on two legs, and Dr. Lewis laughed some more and clapped him on the shoulder. 

"Dr. Yamada is also new here. He's only been here—what, four days? Five?—but having _remarkable _success with a young patient whom we thought might be unreachable. Speaking of which, Myojuan, how did your session go today?"

He hated to put a spoke in the wheel of Lewis's praise, but he cleared his throat and said, "We had…some minor complications this morning, sir, but I think that Ryuuen should pull out of it quickly." _I hope_.

"Well! Well, that is only to be expected, of course!" To his credit, the head doctor didn't seem in the least perturbed by the somewhat vague news. "They will have relapses, as I'm sure you both know…"

"I'm sorry," said Dr. Blake, and Myojuan noticed that her expression had changed from content to surprised. "Excuse the interruption, but what did you say your patient's name was?"

"It's Chou, isn't it?" Dr. Lewis answered for him, nodding. "Ryuuen Chou. He's only been here a week, but completely unresponsive until Myojuan here had a go at him."

"Ryuuen Chou," the dark-skinned woman breathed, her eyes widening. "This is so strange! I've been wondering what's become of him; I'd have hoped he'd be out of psychiatric circles by now, oh, the poor kid…"

Myojuan was, by now, blinking quite stupidly, but finally worked up the energy to inquire, awestruck, "You…you know my patient?"

"Well!" said Lewis, and left it at that.

Dr. Blake nodded, folding her arms across her chest, looking rather sad. "Yes, I…he was _my _patient, when he was ten years old. My first one, in fact…Ahh, the poor kid," she said again, and put a hand to her face. "Dr. Yamada, if it's not too much trouble and if you're not too busy…I'd very much like to talk to you about Ryuuen, see how he's holding up…"

"Well!" Lewis repeated, this time with much more gusto. "What a coincidence, eh? How perfect…Myojuan! Would you mind showing Emma around the rest of the place? You could tell her of young Ryuuen's progress, and kill two birds with one stone…so to speak."

Well, it wasn't as if he could say no. And besides, the woman had piqued his curiosity; she'd been with Ryuuen since the beginning! She was the closest thing to a key to his past that he had, apart from the file, which wasn't really very responsive. And he had questions of his own. "Of course," he said, "no problem."

When Lewis had bid them a cheery farewell, Dr. Blake gave Myojuan a sheepish look. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to distract you from whatever you were doing."

She was really very pretty, he noted, and cleared his throat again. "As I said, it's really not a problem…and it could be considered research, anyway, since I fully intend to ask at least as many questions about Ryuuen as you probably would like to ask _me_." She smiled again, and nodded. "Now…it _is _the same Ryuuen Chou we're thinking of, isn't it? Small for his age, purple hair…"

"Eyes that seem so sad, just looking into them makes you want to cry?" she interrupted softly. Stricken by a momentary wave of silence, he nodded, and she sighed. "With an unusual name like that…I knew it was him. And in a hospital like this, on top of it all…it couldn't be anyone else. Is he…all right? As well as can be expected?"

He gave her a reassuring smile, and made an exaggerated gesture toward the double glass doors to his left. "I'm supposed to show you around. Allow me to show you the doctors' cafeteria." She seemed to catch his drift, smiled and nodded, following him down a few hallways until they finally reached the small, tiled room. As it was nearer to the middle of the day than the end, it was relatively full, nearly swarming with men and women in psychiatric uniforms jabbering away over plates of taco salad. He saw Dr. Kent throw him a slight wave of greeting, which he returned…but other than that, he didn't know anyone beyond hallway recognition. It wasn't surprising, really, since he'd been too cooped up with Ryuuen to bother about meeting more people.

They found a somewhat quiet table in the corner—the same one at which, he remembered, he'd first met Freddie a few days before—and stared at each other for a good while before overcoming the slight awkwardness enough to start the conversation.

"So, you…you knew Ryuuen when he was little?" Myojuan finally began.

Dr. Blake nodded. "For a little under half a year. But he made quite an impression… hehe, obviously." She sighed, eyes trailing to the tabletop. "He'd only had one doctor before me, and not for very long…an older gentleman, I think, but I forget his name."

"Why was he first brought in?" The specifics of that had been rather unclear on paper.

Letting out a breath, she frowned. "All sorts of things. His parents said he talked about a magical fantasy world…which would have been fine, but it got so out of control that they were afraid it was really beginning to shut him off to reality. He also dressed in his sister's clothes…he said he used to do it 'before.'"

Myojuan put his hands on the table. "He did that when he was that young? The impression I got from his file was that he'd only done it once, and fairly soon before arriving here."

"Oh, he was quite the little drag princess," Dr. Blake said fondly, propping her head up with her hand. "But, of course, parents can't just let their kids like what they like…and Mr. and Mrs. Chou did _not _like their son being mistaken for their daughter everywhere they went. So what if it made him happy?" she said sarcastically. "They wanted him to be happy, but on _their _terms. And the emperor thing didn't help matters, either. In fact, irked his dad something _awful_."

Myojuan shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Looks like there's a lot of Ryuuen's past I'm not entirely clear on yet. What's the emperor thing?"

Raising her eyes to meet his, she smiled, closed-mouthed. "Thassokay, Myojuan. Lotsa stuff seems to get lost in the shuffle, most often with little guys. It's actually really sweet…iffffff you happen to be an open-minded individual. If not, well…you panic, like the Chous. But anyway. Ryuuen had this recurring daydream, and he wasn't shy about sharing it with whomever he met, about a tall man with 'pretty eyes' who would one day come and find him and take him away. Ryuuen said he was an emperor. Just like a fairy tale, you know, but…without the female element. He drew me a picture of him once, and _my_, but he was a looker." 

She laughed, and he tried to laugh with her, but the only thing going through his mind was the fact that…suddenly…he _knew _that man, the one Ryuuen had mentioned before, the emperor he'd loved in the past. He could see that man in his mind: tall, with long, brown hair hanging down his back in a loose ponytail…a gentle, handsome face, golden eyes that seemed too old for his body…

__

Too much. This is too much.

"Well, I'm sure you must have questions, too," he said, keeping his voice soft and even; she gave him a funny look, but he continued before she could tune into his confusion. "How he's doing, how he's adjusting."

She nodded slowly, the laughter faded by now. "Dr. Lewis said you've spoken with him. I'd be very interested to know…what he had to say, because he rarely spoke to me, and when he did, it was only a few words at a time. I couldn't reach him. Not really."

__

Don't take it too hard, he wanted to say. _It's nothing personal. You're just not a reincarnated seishi, that's all._ Instead, he told her what had passed between himself and Ryuuen: how the boy still believed himself to have been a part of some sort of fantasy world, how he'd mentioned the same emperor that he'd apparently loved as a child… He didn't say anything about Houjun, or about being mistaken for Mitsukake. He didn't know exactly why, but he considered that to be…rather too private to tell a perfect stranger, even a very beautiful, kind perfect stranger who had known Ryuuen long ago. Emma—he decided to think of her as Emma, as "Blake" left much to be desired and made her sound like a farmer—listened attentively to everything he said, clearly displaying a high level of compassion for the boy in question. 

When he had finished, she took a breath and said, with a grimness that looked strange on the young-looking face, "Did he ever mention any sort of abuse?" 

That was enough to get his mind out of the book, jolt it fully into reality where logic had failed to bring it. It took him a while to ask, "What do you mean?"

She tightened her lips. "I'm sorry; that was kind of out of the blue. But when he was in my care…the signs were there, definitely there. No one would listen to me, but I saw them; I was just wondering if anything had been confirmed yet. I suppose not, though. He'd never talk to anyone about things that really mattered, and his parents certainly wouldn't hear any of it. Since you've talked to him a lot, away from parental influence, I just wondered…if he'd maybe confided in you."

Myojuan's arms were suddenly as heavy as lead, and he felt slightly light-headed; his heart seemed to float, rather disconcertingly, in his chest. _Is it really all just the product of a broken little mind? Is it really just an escape? All this, all he's made me feel, is it as insane as it should be, by all rights? _The thought should have been reassuring, but it fell on him like a blow, squeezing the air out of his lungs until the world was drowned in the buzzing in his head. 

__

I thought it was abuse. Right from the start, I thought it was abuse…and I let myself get dragged away from the truth by this fairy tale that he made out to seem so real…so goddamn real… The answer was right there in front of me, and I ignored it like a fool!

"What kind of abuse?" he asked, sounding weak to his own ears. "What made you suspect it?" 

Emma met his eyes head on, serious and somber, and studied him hard before beginning to reply.

~~*~~

__

Ne me quitte pas encore  
Ne me laisse pas partir  
Pourtant les cloches m'announcent toujours  
Mon vrai destin  
Mon vrai destin

(Translation: Don't leave me yet  
Don't let me leave  
As the bells announce to me eternally  
My true destiny  
My true destiny)

TBC… ****

Notes: My dear Otaku Pitcher! Just to clear things up, to ease your worries, I really don't have any intention of hooking Houjun and Ryuuen up. I love both Chichiri and Nuriko, but they're both so screwed up in the head that I'm afraid they wouldn't complement each other very well. ^_~ With all that Houjun's been through (and I _promise _it'll come up soon!!! ^_^;;; ), he's gonna need more emotional support than poor widdle molested Ryuuen can give him at the moment. ^^; But that is just my own opinion. ^_^

~*~

****

Ryuuen: **socks Mouse-chan in the face** _Why can't you just leave me alooooooooooone??!?!?!_

****

Mouse-chan: OWWWW!!! **wails** Saaaaaaaaaai!!! Ryuuen hit me!!!!

****

Sai: **hugs Ryuuen** Well, honestly, it isn't as if you're blameless…There, there, Ryuu-chan; don't cry.

****

Mouse-chan: HEY!!! _I'M _the one with a fist imprinted in my cheek!!!!!

****

Sai: **sniff** That is of but little consequence, considering all the awful things that are happening to my Ryuuen in this accursed story.

****

Mouse-chan: C'mooonnnnnnnn, it was a twist!! Even Ryuen said, there's gotta be _something _else behind Ryuuen's tragic behavior than just the past-life memories!

****

Ryuen: **teeth clenched** Don't…tell them that!!!!

****

Mouse-chan: Oh, yeah, like you weren't rooting me on. :P

****

Ryuen: AHAHAHA!! Moi???!! ^_^;;;

****

Ryuuen: **lip trembles** Et tu, Ryu-chan??!!

****

Mouse-chan: If you're gonna yell at anyone, yell at her!!!! She's abused poor Nuriko MUCH more than I have!! And she did WORSE than abuse him in Last Wish…

****

Ryuuen: **clamps hands over ears** AHHHHHH!!!!

****

Ryuen: Nice job. --;;

****

Myojuan: Hey, Dr. Blake. Lookin goooooooood.

****

Emma: ^_^;; Er, why thanks.

****

Shouka: **fumes** Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…

****

Emma: ^^;; 

****

Freddie: **sympathetic** It's not easy being an outsider, is it?

****

Emma: I long for Edwardian Britain…

****

Mouse-chan: SHHHHH!!! You're not allowed to make inside jokes!! And Freddie, put that skull DOWN!!!

****

Freddie: **drops skull meekly**

****

Mouse-chan: No Hamlet for you!

****

Freddie: Aw.


	10. The Renunciation

****

Warnings: Mention of child abuse, Mits in denial, sketchy telephone operators, rodent references. **nod**

****

Notes: Hi. **wavewave** ^_^;;

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Ten:

The Renunciation

Myojuan hurried down the long, bare hallway, occasionally weaving through miniature crowds of doctors and patients on their way to the common room, not paying half as much attention as he should have. He'd already stopped by Houjun's room, not long enough to enter, in a desperate search for Freddie; one of the nurses had told him that Dr. Barrington had gone to his office. Given the fact that he hadn't even known Freddie _had _an office, he'd spent about ten minutes searching up and down the halls, growing more and more frustrated at each turn. He frequently cursed whoever had designed the place, since he was beginning to realize that everything looked exactly the same: white brick walls, pale speckled blue linoleum on the floors, random pictures of former hospital directors every twenty feet or so…it was enough to drive a man crazy!…no pun intended.

When he finally spotted Freddie stepping out of one of the rooms, clutching papers to his chest, he heaved an internal sigh of relief and sped up, wrapping a hand around his startled coworker's arm and dragging him back into the office. 

"It's all a lie," he said after he'd shut the door, a bit more heatedly than he would have liked. "Everything they said…they're insane, both of them are just…" Freddie blinked at him owlishly as he fumbled for words, and made a somewhat hasty gesture to the swiveling chair behind the small desk, in which Myojuan promptly sat. He took a deep breath. "Everything they told us, about that book, knowing each other in a past life…everything that we almost _believed_…Freddie, it was no more than rambling."

Barrington leaned back against the wall, still holding his notebook against his chest, still blinking. "Oh," he said in a small voice. "Hmm. I see. Might I ask…ehh…_how _this recent development came to light?"

He exhaled slowly, took a short pause to collect himself, and began to explain, telling Freddie all about Emma Blake and what she had told him about Ryuuen's past. "She said…she recognized signs of sexual abuse," he finally said, feeling suddenly tired and, inexplicably, near tears. Well…maybe not inexplicably, because insane or not, this was _Ryuuen_ they were talking about, _Ryuuen _who had suffered through so much, and the strange bond he felt with the boy did not disappear with this new revelation. 

~*~

"He was always so quiet," Emma said, "and most of the time, he'd just sit there with his knees up and cry…not loud crying, but the sort of choking kind, as if he didn't think I'd notice if he didn't make any noise. At first, I thought he just didn't like having to go see a psychiatrist…but there was real fear there. We'd have family sessions and one-on-one sessions, and the first time he was left for one-on-one, he nearly had a panic attack…" 

~*~

"She said she tried to tell his parents, but they were angry and offended, and wouldn't let her see him again. They claimed it was because his immersion in his fantasy world had grown ten times worse since he'd been seeing her, they said she was making it worse, but she attributed that to incidents of molestation that had occurred just prior to his beginning session in her care."

His friend seemed to grasp his papers even more tightly, hunching his shoulders, but didn't interrupt.

"Dr. Blake says she's almost positive that the person who…hurt him…must have been his first psychiatrist, the man he was seeing before coming to her," Myojuan finished, putting his head in his hands, and Freddie gave a gasp.

~*~

"It couldn't have been anyone else. He was afraid to be alone with me, and I doubt either one of his parents would have put him in therapy in the first place if it had been them. This first doctor was a friend of theirs"—her voice was bitter—"and, of course, there was no possible way he could do such a thing. Besides, they said, they'd sat in on enough family sessions to know that they 'THOROUGHLY' agreed with his methods…Don't mean to burst your bubbles, Mr. and Mrs. Chou, but when a bastard like that is doing one-on-one, the other face makes a guest appearance…" 

~*~

"His _analyst_?? M-My goodness!! That's…well, that's just downright… _unprofessional_!!" The smaller man's face was horrified, his mouth hanging open in shock, and Myojuan saw that his hands were trembling a bit. "Oh, Ryuuen…That poor boy!"

He closed his eyes; he'd had just about the same reaction when Emma had told him her theory. _"Doesn't take a sicko long to cut to the chase when he's in a private session with a little boy dressed as a girl," _she had growled, and Myojuan shivered when it popped back into his head. "It's terrible, yes," he agreed, calming himself down with a great deal of effort. "But do you see what this means? The first or second day I saw Ryuuen, I said to myself that he was displaying symptoms of this kind of abuse. I was right, Freddie; I was _right_. And I've let myself be led around in circles just because I wanted to believe him."

"B-but…Houjun!" Freddie exclaimed. "You can't just explain him away, he…he _knew _Ryuuen, called him by the same name…same one you said he'd wanted _you _to use!"

__

There is that. Can that be just a coincidence?? They knew each other by name, they told the same story…

Stop. Don't let yourself be led astray again!

"Houjun," the big doctor said firmly, "was in a solitary cell, kept apart from the rest of the patients even during common time, and they don't hand those tickets out freely. There must have been a _reason _for keeping him there. The man doesn't know reality from a bedsheet. I think we should keep him and Ryuuen apart, because they're only contributing to each other's psychoses."

A long, uncomfortable pause filled the room as the two men stared at each other, a pair of brown eyes filled with horror and hurt, a pair of blue-violet ones tinged with something like regret. Myojuan knew he shouldn't have spoken so harshly, especially concerning Houjun, with whom he really had no quarrel; he was Freddie's patient, to boot, and it wasn't surprising that the man would be sensitive toward him. 

"I'm sorry," he said finally, trying to make his voice gentle. "I shouldn't have been so emotional. It's just a shock, that's all. All those terrible things happened to that innocent, fragile little boy…and instead of helping him with what really matters, I've only been encouraging the very method of escapism he's been embracing for years. I don't know what that says about me as a psychiatrist, but whatever it is, it's not good."

~*~

"I don't know what that says about me as a psychiatrist. I couldn't get into his head; I couldn't get him to tell me what had happened," Emma continued. "I suppose that's why I kept thinking about him over the years…I feel as though I've failed him, in a way. By the time his parents finally took him away, moved him on to the next shrink down the line, he'd actually started to warm up to me; I think he knew that I wouldn't hurt him, and he talked a little more. He drew that picture of his emperor, and all…" She sighed, and hugged herself, slouching slightly in her chair. "He gave me a hug once, just out of the blue…and I almost burst into tears right there. Such a sweet little boy…such a sad, sweet little boy…" 

~*~

"Look," said Barrington, "I know…well, this isn't a good thing. Far from it. And it's easy to think you've been misled because of it, but, well…I don't think we ought to completely dismiss coincidence. Life, after all, is built on coincidence." He nodded to himself, as if assuring the validity of his statement. 

Myojuan groaned. "They've really sucked you in, haven't they, with this little fantasy of theirs? Freddie, there's _no way _it could be real. _No way_."

"B-but, look now; isn't it possible that poor Ryuuen's abuse could be completely inconsequential?" Freddie said desperately. "If what this new doctor says is true, he was already obsessed with this other world _before _the alleged abuse took place. Now. What happened between himself and that wretched excuse for an analyst might have made his memories all that more appealing, but you can't say one was responsible for the other." 

"There is a _logical. REASONABLE. _Explanation. For this whole ordeal," Myojuan insisted. "And magical remnants of ancient Chinese literature have nothing to do with it."

Barrington took a breath and stood up straight, a slight frown touching his dark eyebrows. "Well. There's only one way to solve this problem, then, isn't there?"

His friend just looked at him, uncomprehending.

With a regal air that seemed very uncharacteristic, the shorter man strode to the desk with his chin held high, gently picked up the phone, and pressed the "O" key. 

"Freddie, what are you _doing_?" Myojuan demanded tiredly.

"Shhh." His friend shot him a parental look. "I'm on the phone, Myojuan; you shouldn't interrupt, it's impol…Ahh! Hello. Hello?…Hello. Yes, and good evening to you, as well, Madam…" As Freddie calmly requested to be connected to Tokyo, Myojuan had to resist the urge to start banging his head against the desk. The man's skull was thicker than the bedroom walls. However, he told himself, if his fellow doctor needed to call Japan to make him see reason, then let him _call _the bloody place.

He sat back and watched, skeptical, as Freddie's face suddenly turned from self-confident to moderately perturbed, his skin paling the slightest bit. After stammering something nearly unintelligible into the receiver, he cupped his hand over the bottom of it and shot frantic eyes at Myojuan. 

"Myojuan!" he hissed. "I…I can't speak Japanese!"

"You're kidding," his friend replied, deadpan.

"Look, I can't…Ahhh, je…Eine Minute…eep!" he squeaked to the unsuspecting operator, and looked up again. "Myojuan! Take the phone!" 

"_Oh_, no!" Myojuan protested, throwing his hands up defensively. "I'm not going to _touch _it…"

"But you can speak Japanese and you _must_, Myojuan!" Freddie pleaded, trying to thrust the phone into his hands. "Please? Just a bit, just a bit, just a bit…"

"Dr. Barrington, I am _not _going to give in to your desperate attempts to…Ehhh, konnichiwa gozaimaaaaaaasu!" he was forced to say, the phone held up to his ear. Glaring daggers at Freddie, he accepted the receiver. Freddie just smiled, sheepish as always, but with a definite layer of satisfaction beneath it all. The little weasel had gotten what he'd wanted.

The poor woman on the other end of the phone seemed…rather bad-tempered about the whole affair, but he apologized profusely, explained to her that they were looking for a friend in Tokyo, and gave her the last name: Yuuki. It suddenly occurred to him just how silly he sounded, wanting a phone number for a perfect stranger; he knew nothing about this girl, not her district, not her street, not even her mother's first name. He felt like the biggest idiot in the world, and hoped Japan would not think _too _badly of Americans because of this transgression. He was about to apologize again, hang up, and give Freddie a piece of his mind, when the woman muttered something under her breath (he couldn't make out much more than "baka yarou," which shocked him) and there was a click, followed by which the phone on the other end began to ring.

His mouth fell open in surprise, and he had a short-lived battle with himself concerning whether or not he should just hang up, given the fact that he couldn't _possibly _have been connected to the correct person. The gaze he shot at Freddie was too confused to really be _murderous_, but it was sharp nonetheless, and he cursed himself for allowing himself to be put in such a ridiculous position. For his part, Freddie greeted him with a semi-apologetic smirk, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. 

__

Blast it all._ I'm hanging up_.

He was just about to do so, when a voice popped up from the other end of the line: a chipper, somewhat familiar girlish voice, overly cheery, a touch of laughter in it, as if she'd picked up the phone just after sharing a joke with friends.

For the longest moment, he just stood there, paralyzed.

__

How could this happen??!? Freddie said to trust coincidence, but this is RIDICULOUS!!! Am I hallucinating? Is it even her?

But in his heart, he knew he wasn't, and it was.

"…Hello?" the girl said (in Japanese, naturally), some of the original cheer fading from her voice upon hearing no answer.

__

Say something! Say something, or she'll hang up!

"Ahhhh…Miaka Yuuki, please?" His voice was cracking so badly that she'd probably think he was a teenager. He wondered insipidly how his accent was holding up.

It was her turn to pause. "Yes, who's this?"

"Ahem. M…Yuuki-san, forgive me for seeming so strange, but…my name is Myojuan Yamada, and I'm calling you from Illinois, in the United States of America." _So far, so good_. "I'm a psychiatrist here, and…" _Good God! And what?? And one of my insane patients wanted me to call you in order to justify his claim that he used to live in a book? _"And one of my…patients…wanted me to call you…" He trailed off, thinking it best to leave it at that. Nine chances out of ten, she'd just hang up on him right there, because the Logical Explanation behind Ryuuen's condition _did not _include her. Freddie would be satisfied, though; so he waited for the click and the dial tone to tell him she'd gone to spread the Crazy American rumor, waited and waited…

But she didn't hang up. The other end of the line stayed clear of buzzing; he could hear something—dishes, maybe—clattering in the background, male voices laughing from a distance. And then, she said, in a disbelieving whisper…

"…_Mitsukake_?"

~~*~~

__

Pour un instant, j'ai oublié mon nom  
Ça m'a permis enfin d'écrire cette chanson

(For an instant, I forgot my name  
And that permitted me to finally write this song.)

TBC… ^^;; ****

Notes: Ehhhehe… ^^;; Sorry if it's bad. Ryu-chan says it's not, but I don't believe her. And I myself am a terrible judge of such things, and therefore…blehhh. **nod**

****

BLACKBIRD AKUGI!!! Take One:

Myojuan: There must have been a _reason _for keeping him there. The man doesn't know reality from a bedsheet.

****

Houjun: --;; **matches up "BEDSHEET" with a picture of a bedsheet, and "REALITY" with a picture of Adolf Hitler**

****

Myojuan: ….Nevermind!! Nevermind, he does!

****

Take Two:

Emma: **going on about Ryuuen's awful, tragic past**

****

Ryuuen: **hits Mouse-chan again** **cries** YOU'RE SO MEEEEEAN!!!!

****

Mouse-chan: **crumpled on floor** Ehhh…ouchies…


	11. The Regression

****

Warnings: Sap. Crying. Yeah. Well, come onnn…I mean, it's _Blackbird_, for crying out loud! (no pun intended --;; ) You thought I could get a chapter past _without _sap and crying??! Naïve, naïve little people. ^_~

****

Notes: Uhhh…yeah. Hi. **sheepish wave** As you mmmmmmight have noticed, updates on my part have been relatively slim in the past few weeks. ^^;; It's not my choice, really! Blame my history professor! We have to read about two books a week. And it stinks. And usually, after all that reading, I'm too tired to think, and wind up watching the Real World marathon on MTV. **hangs head in shame** Oh, come on, though; there are cute gay guys on The Real World!!! And cute gay guys are cool. Anywayyy…the point is, I'll really try to keep up with my fanfics. ^_^ And I have actually started the next chapter of YAS, as well as the next chapter of FOD and the next Gilbert and Sullivan parody. But we'll see how much time I get to work on them. I can only promise that I'll do it whenever I can. **nodnod** Although the Gilbert and Sullivan one will probably come next, because it's easy for me to do those when I'm in a tired and slap-happy mood. You know: "Ahahahahahaha!! I'm so tired!! But "unfortunate" rhymes with "importunate!" WAHAHAHA!!!!!!" Ehem. The other ones actually require me to process my thoughts, though! So that's why they take a long time when I have lots of other crap to do. **nodnod** But I hope all of you are doing well, and thanks for reading my storyyy!! Hope you like, despite the sappiness! ^_^;; 

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Eleven:

The Regression

__

Mitsukake.

__

She couldn't know. She could never know.

He couldn't bring himself to speak, reaching out a hand to steady himself against the desk and feeling his knees go slightly wobbly. This strange girl, this strange girl whom he had called on false information and against his better judgment, she _knew _him somehow. She recognized him as Ryuuen and Houjun had recognized him; that one name coming from her mouth had been enough to knock the wind out of him, because he realized…

…Maybe she wasn't so strange, after all. Because, for some inexplicable reason…she was familiar. Ryuuen had been right.

"Mitsukake!" the voice on the phone continued, trembling with contained joy and disbelief. "Is that you?? It is, isn't it?? Say something; _please_, say something!"

Myojuan opened his mouth, struggled for a few moments, and finally forced his voice to obey him. "Y…Yuuki-dono," he said. "I haven't called about myself. I…I am a psychiatric doctor in America, and two of my patients…wanted me to contact you." He needed to push the focus of conversation away from himself, because otherwise, they would make his mind into Jell-o. And Suzaku knew they didn't need any more goddamn Jell-o at Bentley Park. 

"A…a psychiatrist?" the girl asked softly, subdued and confused. "Mitsukake… you sound strange, are you all right?"

He closed his eyes. "With all respect, Yuuki-dono, I'm calling for my patients."

There was a lengthy silence, her breathing audible in a country thousands of miles away, and she finally said, "I…I understand. Please; who are your patients?"

"Ryuuen Chou and Houjun Ri," he replied. "They thought calling you would… prove that a story they told us was true."

She made a tiny sound that could have been a sob or a small cry of joy, and when she spoke again, he thought she had begun to cry. "Nuriko," she whispered. "Chichiri. You found them. We've found each other; I _knew _we would, I _knew _it!"

And he realized that he knew what she looked like.

A small girl with large, green eyes set in a round face, reddish-brown hair almost always done up in two buns on each side of her head… He could see her smiling, walking around cheerfully, bringing joy to whoever met her, whether they liked it or not. He could see her heartbroken, tears coursing down her face like rain in the bloody snow. 

He _knew her_.

"Mitsu… Iie. Yamada-san," she said seriously, fighting to keep her emotions in check, "we're going to come see you. We have to. Is that all right?"

What to say? On one hand, she knew far more than she had any right to know, and could very well be the answer to Ryuuen's problem. On the _other_ hand, how on earth _could _she know?? How could what Ryuuen and Houjun had said be real? And if it was real, what did that say about _him_? If it was real, he would have to readdress the very Mitsukake Question which had already caused so much trouble…

__

If Miaka is real and she knows Ryuuen and Houjun and they know her that means they knew me too and what they were saying was true about Miaka so it's true about me and bloody hell!!

He suddenly felt very weak in the knees, and let himself sink into the smooth leather armchair behind the desk. "O…of course," he heard himself say, defeated. "Of course. You should come." _This is the right thing to do. She can help Ryuuen. _"Let me give you the phone number of the hospital, and I'll explain exactly where we're located…" _Forget about the whole fantasy world thing. Ignore it. She can help Ryuuen, and that's what's important._

He gave her the name of the nearest international airport, as well as driving directions to the hospital; when he asked her if she understood how to rent a car, and if she thought she knew enough English to get by, she only laughed.

"Don't worry! I have a friend who speaks fluent English, as well as Chinese, French, Spanish, Russian…hmm, probably more, too. He also travels a lot, so he'll know what to do."

__

She said "WE'RE going to come." That's right, he thought. He wanted to ask who she was bringing, and if they came from the book, too…but then decided against it, since asking would have implied belief.

"We'll be there as soon as we can," Miaka continued, and paused. "Dr…Dr. Yamada…"

"…Yes?"

"I…" she swallowed. "I know you won't understand this, and I guess it sounds pretty stupid. But…I just wanted to say that I missed you, and I'm _so _happy to hear your voice again."

__

Again…

"And please…please tell Nuriko and Chichiri that I miss them, too…and that I love them." Her voice had faded, becoming choked, but he could tell that she was crying because she was happy.

__

I missed you, too, Miaka.

"Ahhh…certainly, I'll tell them," he said, pushing the thought away. "And… we'll be expecting you."

When he hung up the phone, slightly dazed, he remained staring at the opposite wall for a good five minutes until a purposeful throat-clearing reached his ears from across the room. Moving his head around to face Freddie, he found the man pretending to go through the books on one of his shelves; suddenly, apparently feeling Myojuan's eyes on him, the Englishman paused, looked up, and regarded his coworker with an innocent expression.

"Oh?" he said. "Are you off the phone?"

Myojuan raised his eyebrow. 

"What, ahhhh…" The shorter man brushed some dust off of one of the books' covers, obviously trying to come across as half-interested. "What did she say?"

Rolling his eyes, Myojuan swirled back and forth in the rotating leather chair, leaning his head back to stare at the off-white ceiling. "She's coming."

"_REALLY??? _Well, that's _marvelous_!!! Ahhhhhhhhhh, I mean…Oh! How nice." Freddie grinned at him sheepishly.

He shook his head, and opened his mouth to fill Freddie in about what was happening, as Freddie was the most convenient person to tell, when there was a knock on the office door, and he paused in mid-breath. Undaunted, Freddie ambled over to open it, revealing a rather flustered Ruth Gainsley.

"Dr. Barrington," she said breathily, "I'm so sorry to bother you, but please, will you allow Houjun to see Ryuuen? I've looked for Dr. Yamada to ask him, as well, but I can't seem to…"

"I'm right here," Myojuan cut in kindly, standing up and moving to Freddie's side, where she could see him plainly. A sudden worry sprang into his chest at her urgency. "What's wrong?"

Ruth took a breath, and offered him a comforting smile. "It's…it's really not critical. It's kind of silly, actually, but…well, Ryuuen's crying. And I know we're not supposed to humor the patients too much, but…he asked for Houjun, and I don't see the harm in that." She looked up at him hopefully, then moved her wide eyes to Freddie. "I wanted to check with you both first, of course, but… It's been so wonderful to see Ryuuen so happy these past few days, and to have him back like this…" She shook her head. "Please, won't you bring Houjun to see him?"

Freddie pursed his lips and looked up at Myojuan, his eyes saying that _he _would certainly allow it if Myojuan agreed. The taller man remembered his violent avowal, only minutes before, not to let Ryuuen and Houjun see each other any more, and hesitated. 

__

If they're really insane, then being together is not going to help them. Playing together in this fantasy only makes it seem more real, and that's not what either one of them needs.

But if what they said is true—a theory now supported by a girl in Japan, for crying out loud—then the separation could be even more damaging. And even if it's not true, they seem to draw so much from each other…So what, then, is the more immediate of the two problems? If they're insane, something will have to be done about it. But they're less insane when they're together than they are when they're apart, if that makes any sense at all. And Ryuuen…

His heart clenched. Ryuuen was the immediate problem. He was so depressed; Myojuan himself had seen it earlier that day, and there was a definite possibility that it might become dangerous. The "insanity" that the two of them had displayed was severe, but not dangerous. And Ryuuen's happiness was more important right now.

"Go get Houjun," he said quietly to Freddie, and moved out into the hallway with Ruth. "Keeping them apart would do more harm than good." Hearing his friend exhale in relief, he headed toward Ryuuen's room with the young nurse at his side.

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

To his surprise, Dr. Blake was there when he arrived, leaning against the wall by the door and biting her lip as if in agony. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, her chin tilted down; she looked up quickly when she heard them approach, and straightened up, eyes wide.

"Dr. Blake," Myojuan said in way of greeting, reaching for the doorknob.

"Let me see him," was her calm reply, the smoothness of her tone making him pause. He turned to look her in the eyes, and saw the glittering torture within them. "Please," she begged quietly. "I won't go in if you say no. But I've seen him through the window"—she gestured to the glass panel lodged in the door—"I've heard him crying, and it's so frustrating not to be able to help him. It's been so long…but he trusted me, Myojuan." She stared at him pleadingly, clutching the charm of her necklace in one hand, and he hesitated again.

Would Emma bring back unwanted memories, or would she truly be a comfort to him? Should he even take the chance? Ryuuen was so fragile right now, and if anything were to upset him further…

But he saw in her eyes that she wouldn't harm him. He saw it, and so he nodded wordlessly, stepping aside to let her enter. Besides, Ryuuen was still mad at him, and he didn't see what good he could do at the moment.

Dr. Blake smiled in relief, and took a breath, walking slowly into the room; Myojuan followed her closely, and Ruth, as well. Ryuuen had his back to them, curled up on his bed; his shoulders were hunched up and shook as he cried, his good arm flung over his head as if to hide his face. His tears were silent save for gasping breaths and tiny sobbing sounds that escaped periodically; Myojuan had never once even _considered _the possibility that Ryuuen's crying could be a plea for attention, but if the thought had ever flitted across his mind, it was dispelled immediately. The child was trying to _hide _his tears, taking special care—or, so he thought—that no one would hear him.

But he could see, and he could hear. And it cut into him like a knife.

__

Freddie, he pleaded, _hurry. I can't bear to see him like this, not after I've seen him so happy._

He and Ruth stopped halfway across the small room, and Emma continued to walk until she had come around to Ryuuen's side of the bed. Then, slowly, she placed her hands on her thighs and sat down beside him; Myojuan saw the boy flinch as he realized his misery was on display, and he fought the lump that had formed in his throat.

He wanted to believe that he had nothing to do with Ryuuen's present state, that denying the identity that Ryuuen had offered him did not factor into his tears. It was just stress, and the boy was tired; he'd always been on shaky emotional ground, after all. Emma had said so. And whatever abuse he had received had happened a long time ago, but it almost certainly hadn't been treated properly, and therefore would still affect Ryuuen deeply. He'd have to set about taking care of that, he thought fleetingly, because it had already gone too long without treatment. 

But despite these elements, there was no way he could remove himself from the equation.

It was _he _who had, however inadvertently, caused Ryuuen to slam his hand in the bathroom door. It was _he _who had taken him away from the comfort of Houjun's presence. And, it was he who had brought the boy such hope and happiness, only to rip it away when confronted with his theories. 

__

If I had let him believe I was Mitsukake, he wouldn't be crying right now. He'd feel safe. He wouldn't have hurt himself.

And if I hadn't pretended to believe his fantasies, he wouldn't have been so shattered when I told him I didn't.

Did he believe them now? …He still wasn't certain. The evidence was there—the coincidences that Freddie had so staunchly defended, and the fact that he knew what Miaka looked like, and Hotohori, as well—but he still couldn't let himself believe it. As a student of psychiatry, he just _couldn't_. No matter how much evidence was presented, logic simply did not account for magical storybooks.

Seated on the pale comforter adorning the bed, Emma reached out a slender hand and stroked Ryuuen's hair as he tried to hide his tears, his slim body trembling with the effort. Though her back was to Myojuan, she had turned her head to the side, and the big doctor could see the sad smile that pulled at her lips. "Hey, my little princess," she said, her voice soft, gentle, comforting. "You gonna tell me why you're cryin?"

With one more gasp, Ryuuen's wrenching sobs stopped, and he breathed heavily, trying to calm himself. His shoulders stilled, and then, ever so slowly, he drew his arm down from his head, revealing his tear-stained face bit by bit. His eyes were huge, fighting the swelling with surprise, as he saw who had spoken to him.

Still playing with his hair, Emma's smile deepened. "Hey, baby," she said.

Ryuuen made a choking sound and twisted on the bed, pushing himself into a sitting position with his good arm. The beautiful woman before him let her hand fall to her lap, regarding him warmly.

"D…Dr. Blake?" the boy gasped out, his voice cracking on the name, his thin chest heaving, and Emma nodded slowly.

"That's right, honey," she said finally, nearly whispering, and Myojuan remembered her saying that Ryuuen had hardly spoken when he'd been in her care. "It's been a while, huh?"

Watery violet eyes, still wide with surprise, studied her face for a long moment, traveling across her cropped hair, her smooth, bare shoulders, her lips, her cheeks. And then, suddenly, Ryuuen let out a short, pained sigh. His mouth trembling, the tears spilling from his eyes as his lashes fluttered briefly closed, he moved his body forward. Slowly, almost painstakingly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and scooted closer to Emma.

For a moment, the two of them simply sat there with their backs to Myojuan and Ruth, the boy's back heaving periodically as he still fought to contain his sorrow. Ryuuen wasn't looking at Emma, but he had tilted his head toward her, nestled against his hunched shoulder; it was almost as if he was sending out a mental plea for contact, but afraid or embarrassed to be the first one to act. But when Emma finally raised her hand again to his head, he let his emotions overtake his pride and fear; with a choked but audible sob, he leaned into his former psychiatrist, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. As she put her arms around him, cradling his head against her, he began to weep in earnest, any attempts at stifling the sound proving unsuccessful.

"Shh, baby," Dr. Blake murmured, stroking his hair. "Shh. No one can hurt you here, sweetie… You just cry, okay? You just go on and cry…"

It was hard for Myojuan to tear his eyes away, to give the two their privacy. But he gave a meaningful look to Ruth, who had put a hand to her mouth, and motioned toward the door. They left Dr. Blake with Ryuuen crying in her arms, and stepped back out into the chilly hall; when Myojuan had gently closed the door behind them, Ruth sighed and wiped a stagnant tear from her eye.

When the doctor offered her his handkerchief—or, then again, maybe it was Freddie's—she laughed in embarrassment, sniffling, and brought out her own. "Thanks," she said in a small voice, and wiped her nose. "Ahh! I don't know what it is with that kid. He just…pulls at my heart, you know?"

Myojuan folded his arms and smiled a little. "I understand. He seems…too gentle to suffer, doesn't he?"

She nodded in agreement. 

"What's this? A convention in the hall?" came an unmistakable voice from a few yards away, echoing off the painted brick walls of the building. "And I wasn't invited? Now, _really_; I'm _hurt_, Myojuan."

"Sorry, Freddie; the English aren't invited," Myojuan replied, without looking up. "We're afraid you might try to colonize the hospital."

"I wouldn't talk about imperialistic ancestors, if I were you."

The bigger man raised his eyes to see Freddie approaching with an anxious-looking Houjun at his side. The blue-haired patient was nearly wringing his hands with worry, his brow creased and his face pale. 

"What's wrong?" Houjun asked. "Why are we waiting outside? Is N… Is he all right?"

__

He's afraid. He's afraid that something might have happened, that he'll have his only friend torn away from him again. If anything should happen to Ryuuen at this point, or to Houjun, how would the other one cope? 

No. Whatever happens, we can't keep them apart. It would kill them more quickly than any mental instability.

"Give him a moment," Myojuan said gently. "He's all right. He needs you, but I think, right now, he needs something else more."

Freddie blinked, and Houjun frowned slightly. "W…what? What does he need?"

Turning his head back toward the door to Ryuuen's room, Myojuan sighed, then tilted his chin down to his chest. "A mother," he said.

~~*~~

__

Pour un instant, j'ai retourné mon miroir  
Ça m'a permis enfin de mieux me voir

(For an instant, I turned my mirror around  
And that permitted me to finally see myself better)

TBC…

****

BLACKBIRD AKUGI!!! Whose Line Style!

Drew Carey: Now it's time for the game "Change!" Our Heroes will reenact a scene from the story above, but whenever Ryan says "Change!" the last person to speak has to change their line! Ready?? OKAY!!

****

Myojuan: He's all right. He needs you, but I think, right now, he needs something else more.

****

Freddie: **blink**

****

Houjun: W…what? What does he need?

****

Myojuan: A mother.

****

Ryan Stiles: Change!

****

Myojuan: A tuna.

****

Ryan Styles: Change!!

****

Myojuan: A sex-change operation. --;;

****

Drew Carey: Okay, okay…let's try that again. Take Two!!

****

All: **groan**

****

Myojuan: He's all right. He needs you, but I think, right now, he needs something else more.

****

Freddie: **blink**

****

Houjun: W…what? What does he need?

****

Myojuan: A mother. Ahh, damn!

****

Ryan Stiles: Change!

****

Myojuan: …A baloney sandwich!!

****

Ryan Stiles: Change!!!

****

Myojuan: --;;; An acting career!!

****

Ryan Stiles: Change!!!

****

Myojuan: A FLUFFY BUNNY!!!!!

****

Ryuuen: O.O;;;;

****

Emma: Hey, Ryuuen!

****

Ryuuen: Hmm?

****

Emma: Why do you cry so much?

****

Ryuuen: Well, I mean, obviously because I was molested as a child and no one believes my stories about my past life and I'm lonely and anorexic and they won't let Houjun come stay with me and Hotohori-sama is God knows where.

****

Ryan Stiles: Change!!

****

Ryuuen: ….--;;; Because I'm really a rooster.

^_^;;;


	12. The Interlude

****

Warnings: Sap. No crying, though!!! O.O;; **hell freezes over**

****

Notes: Whazzap. **burns all her accursed German history books** Okay, just to make this clear…the class I am in is not just a normal old German history class. OHHH no. If that was the case, I wouldn't harbor NEARLY as much animosity toward it. It is actually a German _historiography _class. **shudder** That is, the history of how people study German history. **tears hair out** Now. Historiography and I are mortal enemies, because I have an _extremely _hard time reading two books on the same subject and trying to decide which one is right, or which one is more believable. I don't have a strong background in German history to begin with, so I'm just reading along going, "Oh! Okay, so I'll trust this author…" and I really do not feel the need to try to second guess him or her and write an analytical paper about it. --;;; I know it's shocking, but I don't. Historical theory is obnoxious. "Hitler came to power because people associated him with the national unity of 1914!!" "No, Hitler came to power because his party was the only political party conservative folks could vote for!" I DON'T CARE! He came to power, he killed lots of people, isn't that enough?? --; Anyway, excuse my venting; I really didn't mean to go on for this long. ^_~ Suffice it to say that I love history, but not nitty gritty history like I'm being forced to study. (I should probably add the fact that I did not KNOW this course was historiographical when I enrolled. **nod**) But anyway, on with the story! ^_^;;

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Twelve:

The Inderlude

They left Dr. Blake and Ryuuen alone in the small room for the better part of an hour. It was obvious that the boy trusted her, and that she could give him a kind of comfort that Myojuan and Houjun could not. It wasn't as if his real mother was banging at the gates of Bentley Park to see her son. What's more, Myojuan thought as he and the others moved to talk in the common room, from what she had told him, Emma represented a safe point in Ryuuen's life: someone who didn't question his fantasies; someone who didn't berate him for his natural and ancient attraction toward boys, and who understood, even if it was a silent understanding, what must have happened to him in the hands of his first analyst.

He wondered if he should tell Houjun about his friend's childhood trauma, but decided that, despite their close bond, it wasn't something the blue-haired man needed to know at that point. He believed Emma's theory, but until they started speaking to Ryuuen about what had happened, there was no reason to make people worry. But they _would _speak to Ryuuen. The boy was in their custody now, his and Emma's, and there were no blind parents to deny the possibility of assault.

__

Hold a moment…I was considering divulging private patient information to another patient???! 

A week ago, he never would have considered such a thing. But he'd thought about telling Houjun, all the same. 

__

I'm losing my professionalism, he thought, lips pursed. _Better keep a tighter hold on it._

Ruth had gone off to continue about her business, leaving Myojuan, Freddie, and Houjun sitting around one of the small card tables in the common room, empty save for an old, balding man watching Zorro on the big-screen TV. Despite what Myojuan had said to him concerning Ryuuen's safety, Houjun still looked worried.

"Who's that woman with him?" he fretted. "How does she know him?"

"She was one of his psychiatrists when he was young," Myojuan explained patiently. "I wouldn't worry about her. She cares for him very much."

"Why's he crying? Can't I see him?"

"Soon enough," Freddie soothed. "You'll see him soon enough."

The young man let out a long sigh, folding his hands in his lap and staring at them. It wasn't good for him to worry so much, Myojuan thought, especially when he had been through so much himself…

"How are you, Houjun?" the big doctor asked quietly, and Houjun looked surprised at the sudden interest. "I'm sorry if I…upset you in any way today. Please believe me, it wasn't my intention."

A slightly more relaxed smile graced the pale face. "I know. I…I'm sorry things had to turn out that way. Ryuuen was… I guess I didn't know how much it was hurting him." He lowered his head again quickly, twining his long fingers together. 

"He's been through a lot," Myojuan agreed. "I don't know if I'm at liberty to discuss his past with you, but if you talk to him about it…maybe he would tell you. And it could really help him. He trusts you."

"He was so different, back then…you know," Houjun faltered, unmistakably referring to the past life. "He always tried to be so cheerful, even though he wasn't. And now, he seems like such a child…so delicate emotionally, like something inside him didn't grow up the way it should have, you know? Back then, he never let his true emotions show. Very rarely, anyway. And he was so…strong. Despite everything that had happened to him, he was so strong."

"But he had…" Myojuan began to say, but cut himself off. 

__

"But he had us back then." That's what I was going to say. US. He had US. 

"He had…friends back then," he tried to cover his slip, but a little voice in his head told him that it was already too late. By acknowledging that there had _been _a "back then," he had already let his guard down. 

__

Crap!!

Well, maybe he won't notice…It's not a big deal.

But Houjun's wide eyes announced that this was not the case, that he _had _noticed, and it was a very, very big deal. "You…You _do _remember!" he whispered, straightening up in his chair. "You _do _remember, _don't _you??"

"That was one hell of a Freudian slip, Myojuan," Freddie put in cheerfully, and Myojuan lowered his head into his hands and wished it would all just go away.

There was a brief silence before Houjun tried again. "…Mitsukake?"

He opened file after file of logic in his mind, trying to find a way to escape. Houjun had heard him wrong. Houjun had been dreaming…well, how the heck was he gonna push _that _one?? Okay. He'd been talking about something else; _he _had misunderstood _Houjun_. That was as good as anything: blame himself, not the patient.

But when he opened his mouth to speak, what came out was, "…I don't know yet."

Silence, and his heart pounded in his ears.

__

I said it. And the subconscious is supposed to speak the truth, isn't it? I said it. I can't go back now.

"But…" Houjun began, but Myojuan interrupted softly.

"Please," he said, meeting the other man's eyes. "Not now. I don't want to talk about it now. We have other things to think about."

There was another pause as Houjun studied him calmly, eventually nodding with a small, understanding smile. "All right," he said quietly, and Myojuan wondered exactly when _he _had become the patient.

Relieved nonetheless, he took a breath to continue the conversation, intending to segue into the Other Things To Think About and leave his personal worries behind for the time being. However, to his surprise, he found that there really _wasn't _much else to think about, save the upcoming visit from Miaka. But he didn't want to tell Houjun and Ryuuen about that just yet. Too many things could happen. What if Miaka decided not to come at all? What if she ran into difficulties and couldn't find the money or the time? What if her plane crashed on the way over? All right, so maybe that was a little extreme. The last thing he wanted to do, however, was to raise up their hopes only to smash them down again.

As he floundered for something to say, his eyes met Houjun's once more, and he saw that the man was still smiling at him, almost fondly. 

"I bet you want to know," the blue-haired man said gently, sounding a little sad, "exactly why I'm here, right? What I did to get myself into this mess."

"Houjun…" began Freddie, slight alarm evident in his voice as he leaned forward a bit.

The brown eyes slid shut. "It's all right. I won't get worked up, don't worry; everything's different, now that…Ryuuen is here. You want to know why you should be able to trust me with him, since we're both so unstable. Well. I don't blame you." He sighed, and paused a little before continuing. "I killed my best friend."

Myojuan was taken aback, struck dumb, and jerked his head over to Freddie, who was shaking his head slowly in disapproval, lips pursed. 

"I…" Houjun stumbled over his words, but took a breath and regained his calm. "He was my friend in the book, too. I tried to tell him, but…he didn't believe me. And one day, I confronted him about it, and I must have snapped…and he wound up dead. On top of that and what people saw as rambling about my past life, I got off with insanity. But I'm dangerous; that's why they shut me up in here."

Freddie was mouthing something at him behind his patient's back, and he squinted to make it out, ending up with "I'LL…EXPLAIN…LATER." He raised an eyebrow at the smaller man, who then broke into a small grin and gave him the thumbs up. It was a hard fight not to roll his eyes. But Myojuan was curious, if there was a more detailed story to the one Houjun had told. Maybe things were not exactly as he remembered them.

"I know how this sounds," Houjun was saying, jaw set, "and I know that you've probably already taken precautions. I'd like to beg you not to keep me away from Ryuuen, because he needs me. Suzaku, I need him, too." His face flickered, losing a little of its resolve. "But I'd also like to ask you not to…leave me alone with him. I would never hurt him on purpose, but…just in case." He ended with a whisper, his eyes fluttering downward again, and sat waiting for a reply.

Myojuan, for one, was having trouble believing that Houjun _had _actually killed someone. After seeing the man interact with his own patient, after seeing the brotherly gentleness and patience that had dominated the older personality, he couldn't picture him resorting to violence. True, there had been that time in the common room when he and Ryuuen had first seen each other; Houjun had been distressed and raving, but he hadn't made any move to harm anyone. It would have been naïve to assume that he was safe just because he appeared to be so. But he didn't believe that Houjun could hurt Ryuuen any more than he himself could, or Emma. 

Nevertheless, he agreed to humor Houjun. Just in case.

After a while, he suggested they return to Ryuuen's room to see if Dr. Blake had finished talking with the boy. Cautiously, Myojuan peered through the window, and he was relieved to see that his patient did not appear to be crying anymore. His eyes were still red, his cheeks flushed, but he was sitting on his bed talking calmly with Emma, their hands joined and resting on the comforter between them. Wondering if it was all right to interrupt, he raised his hand to knock on the door, then let it fall, then raised it up again…

…Luckily, Emma glanced up just then and saw him through the glass, saving him from mistakenly creating some sort of techno dance move. She smiled and waved, and Ryuuen turned his head to see what she saw, giving a meek, half-hearted little smile of his own. 

Taking the wave as a welcome, he motioned for Houjun to join him, opening the door and entering the room. "A visitor for you, Mr. Chou," he teased quietly, and Ryuuen's eyes widened and lit up as Houjun hurried to his side. Emma greeted him kindly, her hand slipping from Ryuuen's as she stood up, letting the blue-haired man take her place next to his friend.

"Are you all right?" Houjun asked immediately, his eyebrows drawn together; despite what they had told them, Myojuan knew he had to hear it from Ryuuen himself.

The purple-haired boy, meanwhile, nodded at once, his expression contrite. "Chichiri," he said, strained, "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

"It's all right," his friend said quietly, resting his arm across Ryuuen's shoulders. "It's okay. How's your hand?"

Ryuuen shrugged. "It's fine… I didn't mean to scare you, though. I know I did. I don't…I don't know why I did that, it's just… I don't know. I don't know why."

"Everything's going to be fine," Houjun promised, hugging him. "It was scary, I know. But…" His next words were whispered, for Ryuuen's ears only, and when he pulled away, Myojuan saw a slow, beautiful smile spread across the younger boy's face. After a moment, both Ryuuen and Houjun turned their faces to look at Myojuan, who had to restrain himself from taking a step back in surprise.

"…What?" he asked childishly.

Ryuuen's smile widened. "Nothing," he sang, and giggled.

"I think someone needs to sleep now," Emma said, tilting her head meaningfully at Ryuuen, who looked over at her sheepishly. 

"I want…Houjun to stay," the boy said tentatively, and then blushed faintly, as if unaccustomed to asking for things he wanted. 

Myojuan felt a twinge of adrenaline course through him, as it always did when someone suggested breaking the rules. Glancing down at Emma and Freddie, he opened his mouth to apologize and say no, when Emma spoke up.

"I don't see the harm in that," she said, raising an eyebrow at the tall doctor. "Do you, Myojuan?"

"I'll even volunteer to supervise," Freddie offered, raising his hand.

Myojuan looked from one to the other, mouth falling open. "But…the regulations…"

"If anyone finds out, blame it on me," Emma shrugged, and smiled mischievously. "I'm just the new girl; what do I know about rules?"

He found a smile for her, and turned back to Freddie. "Are you sure you don't mind staying? Because I…"

"Of course not." Freddie grinned. "I live alone, after all, Myojuan. At least _you_ have a _cat_."

"Tama-neko," Ryuuen said quietly, and when Myojuan looked at him, he was beaming. "I _knew _you had a cat, didn't I?"

"So, it's all right?" Houjun asked. "It's all right if I stay…with Dr. Barrington's supervision?"

Four pairs of puppy dog eyes bored into him like hypnotic sap medallions, and he raised a hand to his head. "Yes…yes, go ahead and stay here, Houjun."

Ryuuen let out a little whoop of delight, and Emma fixed him with a stern eye. "But despite your guest, you are going to _rest_," she instructed, indicating the bed with her hand.

"She rhymes, Doctor!" the boy teased dramatically, and everyone couldn't help but laugh at his improved attitude. 

"In bed, Mister," Emma said, but smiled, and he gave a sigh and obeyed her, crawling under the covers and nestling in, again cradling his broken hand to his chest. Houjun positioned himself on top of the quilt, stretching himself out beside Ryuuen and placing a gentle arm beneath the smaller patient's head.

"This isn't strange, is it?" Myojuan thought he heard Houjun murmur, but Ryuuen just blinked sleepily, rubbing at his eye.

"Mm-mm," he said, and sighed again. "You're my brother."

Houjun studied him for a long moment as his features relaxed, close to sleep. Finally the older man's mouth flickered into a small smile, and he leaned forward to kiss Ryuuen's forehead before putting his head down next to his friend's. As Freddie saluted and made his way to one of the chairs with a convenient magazine in hand—it appeared, strangely enough, to be the Comic Book Classics version of Hamlet—Myojuan and Emma took one last glance at the two on the bed and stepped back out into the hall. Myojuan felt a fleeting twinge of regret that Freddie would not be able to discuss Houjun's confession with him for quite some time, but figured that it wasn't the most important issue at the time.

"You need to talk to him," Emma said quietly, once the door was safely closed behind them. 

Myojuan looked up. "Hm?"

"About his childhood. He trusts you," she continued, meeting his eyes solemnly. "I'll be there, too, if you want, but he wants _you_."

Nodding slowly, Myojuan felt an emotion that wasn't strong enough to be full-blown sadness well up and wane behind his eyes. "I know," he said, his voice soft. "And I will. I think we should let the events of today ease over before plunging into this, however."

Emma returned his nod. "All right. I've been assigned a patient of my own—two, in fact—but it won't stop me from trying to help Ryuuen as much as I can."

"And I thank you for that," he said sincerely.

"It's my pleasure." She smiled a little. 

She went to meet her own patients after that, and he wandered back to his office to collect his things and drive home. He felt rather guilty, leaving. It was as if he was abandoning Ryuuen and Houjun after all he'd put them through. But a part of him was glad to be going home, glad to have the chance to relax. As much as he felt a bond with the two young men, as much as he truly wanted to help them, the strain of it all was beginning to get to him. He just wanted some time alone, maybe watching Law and Order on TV, without having to worry about Ryuuen or Houjun or Mitsukake or any of it at all. 

So he went home, stopping for Chinese carry-out on the way, and fed Tama and did the crossword in the newspaper and watched his ancient television set. For a while, he was able to push his worries away.

But that night, he dreamed he was a man in a land far away, who had cursed himself because he had come too late.

__

~*~

Sans arrêter, j'ai foncé dans le noir  
Libre comme un loup qui n'a plus d'espoir

[Translation: Without stopping, I searched in the darkness  
Free like a wolf without hope]

****

TBC…

Notes: **wipes sweat from brow** Well, I finally got a break with all my stupid papers and miscellaneous assignments. Lalala. Much more is gonna happen next chapter (whenever I write it), so please excuse the lack of anything happening in this one. ^_~ Thanks for reading! **cookies for everyone! And other goodies for people who can't eat cookies for whatever reason.** ^_^

****

BLACKBIRD AKUGI:

Emma: He wants you.

****

Myojuan: But I'm not gay.

****

Emma: …

:P


	13. The Visitors

****

Warnings: Uhhh…probably melodrama. No one cries! O.O Myojuan and some other folks also use Japanese formatting in their dialogue (last name first, etc.), but only when they're speaking Japanese, so it might be confusing, but I hope it's not. **nod** Hm, what else? It might be repetitive, so…sorry. ^^; And there's probably a contrived plot device in there, as well.

****

Notes: Hi, everyone! Well, you asked for more Blackbird, so here it is. Hope it's okay. ^^; Sorry it took so long. There're probably lots of mistakes, so please key me in and I will attempt to repair them. ^_^

****

BLACKBIRD

~~*~~

Chapter Thirteen:

The Visitors

When Myojuan reached the automatic sliding glass doors of the hospital the following morning, he could see Freddie through both sets, apparently attempting to wear a rut in the floor by the front desk. The sight of the other doctor in such an obvious state of worry made him nearly stop in his tracks, then speed up quickly. Upon seeing him coming, Freddie's eyes brightened, and he stopped pacing and hurried to Myojuan's side, nearly ramming into him in his haste.

"Thank goodness you're here," the smaller man breathed almost pathetically, and Myojuan grabbed his shoulders.

"What's wrong, Freddie? What happened?!" He was sure it was something altogether awful. Maybe Houjun had murdered Ryuuen in his sleep, or Ryuuen had cut his own arm off with a stale piece of bread. 

"G-g-goodness, Myojuan, the w-world hasn't ended!" Freddie cried in shock, and Myojuan realized rather belatedly that he'd been shaking his poor comrade rather viciously. Quickly, he released his grip, and Freddie took a small step back. He made no move to straighten his clothing, but rubbed his right shoulder rather ruefully.

"Sorry," Myojuan said quietly, trying to regain his calm.

"Never mind," Freddie replied, and dropped his hand, shrugging his shoulders. "You've got visitors. Aha…rather imp…important ones, I believe… Three of them. Two young men and a young woman…" An indignant look crossed his face. "She ate all my toffees, Myojuan! And I only offered her one to be polite."

The big doctor felt his forehead begin to grow cold. "Is it Miss Yuuki?" He calculated the time difference between Illinois and Japan in his head, combined with the time at which he'd telephoned the girl and the length of the plane ride from Tokyo to Chicago. If they had left straight away, they very possibly could have arrived already…

"Yes, it's her," Freddie confirmed quietly, then frowned. "I got those toffees from a very old friend of mine in Yorkshire, you know."

"Tell him to send you more," Myojuan suggested bluntly. "Where is she?"

"They're in my office," said his companion, and immediately followed as his cohort took off toward the room in question. "I didn't want to do anything…you know…before you arrived," he puffed. "They wanted to see Ryuuen and Houjun straight off, but I said they had to wait for you… And that's when I gave them the toffees, because I knew they'd be waiting, so I think she ate them all just to spite me!"

"If I know Miaka," Myojuan murmured, turning the corner, "spite had nothing at all to do with it, and I wouldn't take it personally."

Freddie paused. "Really? …Well…jolly good, then."

"You said you spoke to them and told them to wait. Do they speak English, then?"

"Well…I'm not sure about the young lady and one of the gentlemen, but the other gentleman speaks it very well, indeed. He was giving, er…rather speedy translations of what I said to his companions."

By now, they had reached the door to Freddie's office, and Myojuan stopped short and lay his hand on the knob, hesitant. What would he say? What would _she _say? He'd had no time whatsoever to prepare for this encounter, no time to prepare for the possibilities of conversation, or to guard himself against anything she might say about a past life and Mitsukake. He'd seen her face in his mind when he had spoken to her…but that didn't mean anything, it could have been just his imagination. And what of these other two people she had brought? Who were they? Would he recognize them, too? What if he did? What would that mean?

__

Oh, that my life were again uncomplicated and boring…

"Ahem," said Freddie in a small voice, standing at his elbow. "You turn it and then push."

Slowly, Myojuan turned his head down to glare at the other man, who looked up at him with innocent eyes. After a few seconds, the object of his exasperation began to fidget a bit, and threw him a sheepish smile.

"Oh. Ahaha… I see. It was…simply a dramatic pause for reflection, then."

Rolling his eyes slightly, Myojuan finally tightened his grip on the doorknob and twisted, opening the door quickly without giving himself a chance to think twice. 

The three guests, who had apparently been engaged in quiet conversation, stopped talking abruptly, and stood up at once from the brown leather chairs in which they had been sitting. Three sets of eyes grew wider as Myojuan took a few tentative steps into the room and studied them with a flutter in his heart.

It was far beyond the power of coincidence that the girl looked almost _exactly _as he'd pictured her on the phone. Her hair, which he had imagined would be tied up in two buns at the top of her head, had instead been plaited and held with bits of silky green ribbon. Instead of the rough brown school uniform she had worn in his mind, she was dressed in a pair of loose jeans and a green sweatshirt with a white four-leaf clover on the front. But her face was the same, while older. Some of the chubbiness had gone from her cheeks, and she looked a few years older than his heart would have it, but the eyes and nose and mouth were the same, the shade of her skin and the shine to her hair were as he had seen them. As he had _known _them. 

Her companions were likewise familiar, and he felt it deep in his chest, as if the very sight of them was enough to break his heart. The first young man looked to be around the same age as Houjun, perhaps in his early twenties. His hair was violet-black, his eyes violet-blue, and without even asking, Myojuan knew that he and the girl shared a deep bond. 

The second newcomer was taller, with Chinese features and long, dark chestnut hair tied back in a loose ponytail. His face was long and pale, his eyes golden and too old for his body…

__

I saw him, too, Myojuan realized with a start. _When Emma told me about Ryuuen's emperor…I saw his face._

That's the one Ryuuen has loved for all these years…

Shaking his discomfort from his head, he cleared his throat and began, slipping automatically into Japanese. "Thank you for coming all the way out here, Yuuki-san-tachi. My name is Yamada Myojuan, and I…"

Before he could finish, the girl had launched herself at him and flung her arms around his chest, squeezing the daylights out of him. "Oh, Mitsukake! I'm so glad you're here, I'm so glad we came, I _knew _we'd find everyone again! We're all starting to come together, and we've been trying to find everyone for so long!"

Bewildered, Myojuan patted her back gently, trying to pry her off of him. Eventually, it was the violet-eyed young man who took the girl by the shoulders and tugged her away gently.

"Remember," he said in a near-whisper, "you said he doesn't remember anything."

The girl's face grew sad in a flash, and the doctor felt a rumbling of guilt stir inside him. But he cleared his throat again, taking this escape while he had it, and tried again. "I know I spoke to you on the phone, Yuuki-san, but if you wouldn't mind introducing me to your friends?"

With a quick, shuddering sigh, Miaka tucked her worries away and tried to smile. "Of course, I'm sorry. This is my fiancé, Sukunami Taka, and our friend, Seishuku Saihitei. We're…very pleased to meet you." The three of them all bowed, and Myojuan rather awkwardly followed suit. He knew the language well enough, but, having never been to Japan, was slightly unfamiliar with everyday customs. He'd always thought taking Japanese classes in college and learning to use chopsticks was a fine enough display of his heritage.

"Hajimemashite," he repeated, straightening. "Like I said, I'm Yamada Myojuan, Chou Ryuuen's doctor here. And this is Dr. Barrington, Ri Houjun's doctor…" He turned to indicate Freddie with his hand, and did a slight double take as he saw the shorter man standing meekly by the door, hand raised a bit, like a child at school. Myojuan cocked an eyebrow. "…Freddie?"

His eyes darting to the three visitors, plastering a smile on his face, Dr. Barrington edged closer to his coworker. "Myojuan," he whispered through the teeth of his grin, "I don't want to be rude, but…well. I'm Houjun's doctor, after all, and… Well, don't you think it would be beneficial if I, erm…knew what we were talking about?"

Myojuan opened his mouth slightly, then shut it again. He'd forgotten that Freddie didn't speak Japanese… No. That wasn't right. He'd forgotten that _he'd_ been _speaking _Japanese, was more like it. "I'm sorry," he said in English, "you're right. Um, let me…" Looking back up at the visitors, he switched once more to Japanese. "I'm sorry; Dr. Barrington doesn't speak any Japanese, and it's important that he understands our conversation. He said one of you speaks English. Would you mind translating for your friends?" He looked back and forth between the two men, as Freddie hadn't mentioned exactly _which _was the linguist.

Then, the tall one, Ryuuen's emperor, smiled a bit and nodded his head. "I'd be happy to translate," he said in English, his accent perfect, a bit toward the British end of the spectrum. 

The question of the young man's sexual orientation began to worm its way into Myojuan's head _completely _against his will, whereupon it was quite firmly shut out. "Thank you," he said, and continued in English, for Freddie's benefit. "So…you _do _know our patients? Ryuuen and Houjun?" He waited patiently as Saihitei translated, and watched as the other two nodded. 

"We are…very old friends," Saihitei replied, still smiling, but with lines that could be mistaken for sadness under his unusual eyes. "We haven't seen each other in years."

Myojuan let out a breath, finally motioning everyone to sit back down again, and took a chair himself. "Now," he said, "this is very important. Your friends are both under consideration for serious mental and emotional illnesses. They both claim to have known you, Miaka…and Saihitei, too," he added, and the Chinese man's face flickered in…surprise? Relief?…before he resumed his translation. "You've confirmed it, so there's no problem there. However…" He swallowed, not nervously, but only to wet his suddenly dry throat. "They claim to have known you by way of a…magical book, a book which apparently transported you, Miss Yuuki, into another world. They say they knew each other in a past life in this world. I know it seems foolish of me to ask you to confirm this, but if you could offer any sort of insight as to _why _they might believe such a thing, we would be very grateful."

"You think they're crazy because of that?" Miaka said when Saihitei had finished repeating everything in Japanese. Her voice was quiet, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

Myojuan didn't bother to translate that for Freddie.

"Dr. …Dr. Yamada," Saihitei said, his expression grown serious—_I've never wished so strongly for a man to be homosexual_, Myojuan groaned to himself, _but for Ryuuen's sake, I hope he is_—"I know you probably consider such fantasies to be…well. No more than insane rambling."

The doctor's mouth tightened as the fragile truth was pinned to the wall.

"But what if I were to tell you," the young man continued, soft but firm, "that the three of us share these memories? That we have been able to function properly throughout our entire lives, keeping these thoughts inside us?" Myojuan opened his mouth to protest, but the smooth imperial voice cut through his attempt. "Indeed," he said, "perhaps the only reason we were not thought to be insane ourselves is because we kept our memories secret. And then, perhaps, the presence of memories is only a coincidence, and completely unrelated to…Ryuuen and Houjun ending up here."

Myojuan watched as Taka's and Miaka's eyes traveled anxiously from Saihitei to himself, not understanding what was being said. This was quickly becoming a conversation between himself and Saihitei alone, for the sake of convenience, but if he did not reply right away, he stood the risk of losing his train of thought. "What do you mean?"

Folding his hands, Saihitei lifted his chin the slightest bit. "In the past, Nuriko and Chichiri were the two of us who had lived possibly the most traumatic lives. And if the pain they felt has been mirrored in the present, then perhaps it is those painful experiences that would merit treatment, and not the memories alone."

"Ohhh, he's right, Myojuan," Freddie whispered audibly, leaning in toward the larger man and gripping the arms of his chair. "Only their painful experiences weren't in the last life, they're in this one! Remember what Dr. Blake told you about Ryuuen being abused? And remember when Houjun told you he thinks he killed his best friend?"

"…Yes, I _remember_, Freddie, thank you," Myojuan growled. "And do you have to be so sure about the reincarnation aspect of the story?" His head had begun to hurt, because the tall, sad-eyed young man had had the _audacity _to use his own weapon of logic against him. He had referred to Ryuuen and Houjun as Nuriko and Chichiri, which could be explained by the fact that the five people in question had obviously known each other in the past…but it still made him wonder, it still made him doubt the strength of his own logic. And what was more, this combined with the fact that he had recognized all three of the visitors, he was actually beginning to doubt that the fantasy was really a fantasy, after all. He returned his gaze to Saihitei with the intention of making a rather weak argument, not willing to give up without a fight, even though his mind was doing loops in his head. But when he saw the young man's face, any whisper of an argument that had chanced to form in his throat immediately faded.

Saihitei's knuckles were white on the arms of his chair, and his face had become nearly deadly, a stark contrast to the serene, sad nobility that had earlier graced his fine features. Staring up at Myojuan with slightly widened, fiery eyes, he said, in a dangerous voice, "What do you mean, abused? What did he mean when he said that Ryuuen was abused?"

A shiver worked its way up Myojuan's spine at his tone, and Miaka, seeing the malice evident in her companion's face, put one small hand on his shoulder in worry. The tall young man's grip loosened slightly at her touch, but the anger in his eyes remained.

__

Whoah, Myojuan thought. _If he's not in love with Ryuuen, he's got some serious anger issues._

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss the specifics of my patient's diagnosis," he said eventually, and was surprised to hear real regret in his voice. "I wish I could, since you seem to care for him so much. But outside Ryuuen's immediate family, I can't release such information. I'm sorry."

The fury in Saihitei's eyes flickered and faded into sadness, and he lowered his head a bit. After a moment or two, he managed to compose himself, and lifted it again. "Yamada-sensei…please," he said in Japanese, still regal, but with a slight tremor. "I know that, technically, we aren't Ryuuen's family, or Houjun's family. But if you let yourself remember what you have been fighting so hard to keep repressed, you would know that we are closer than brothers. We _are _their family, as much as we are yours." As Myojuan struggled to respond, Saihitei turned his head to Miaka; something seemed to pass between them, traveling from golden eyes to emerald green ones, and Miaka reached for the small knapsack she had brought with her.

Reaching inside it, she drew out a small, rectangular object; it looked like a picture frame, Myojuan thought, finding himself unable to speak. After glancing briefly at the thing, Miaka rose from her seat and stepped over to the doctor, holding the picture frame—for that is what it was—out for him to see.

It was a photograph of eight people, standing at the rail of what appeared to be an old-fashioned boat. Miaka herself was in the center, smiling gaily at the camera; beside her was Saihitei, with his hair pulled up under a ridiculously tiny hat, and dressed in strange-looking clothes. Taka was there, too… And with a gasp, he recognized Ryuuen, standing with a hand on Taka's shoulder, looking happier and healthier and stronger than he had ever been at Bentley Park. And there was Houjun, his blue bangs blowing in the wind, but something seemed to be covering his eyes. 

But what made his heart stop and his brow begin to sweat, what made his hands shake, was the sight of himself in the back row of the picture. Standing next to Ryuuen, with Tama perched on his shoulder. His skin grew cold, and his head grew light.

__

That's me.

"Do you remember this day?" Miaka said, unable to conceal the emotion in her voice. "The last day we were all together and alive and happy… I remembered I brought my camera, and Tasuki thought the picture stole his soul."

And he remembered. The sea air on his face, the lurch of the ship as it rocked in the harbor. The feel of his silken clothes against his arms. The way it made him feel, to belong to someone again… Except it wasn't someone. It was all of them. They belonged together. It was destiny.

"Suzaku no shichiseishi Mitsukake," Miaka said, cutting into his thoughts, her voice breaking. "That's you."

~*~

__

J'ai perdu mon temps à gagner du temps

J'ai besoin de me trouver une histoire à me conter

[Translation : I lost my time while winning time

I need to find a story to tell myself]

****

TBC…

Roku-chan Style Japanese Dictionary: ^_~

Hajimemashite = Pleased to meet you. I think. ^^;; I'm pretty sure. But I'm probably remembering wrong, and it actually means something like "I have a hamster named Charlie." --;

-tachi is used (unless I'm mistaken, as mentioned above) when referring to a group. So Yuuki-san-tachi would be "Miss Yuuki's group" of friends. I hope I used it correctly, as I _believe _it can be used as "you," plural. I do know that Watashi-tachi means "we." Maybe I should have used "minna" instead of "Yuuki-san-tachi." Ah well, I think I'll risk it. Worst that can happen is I'm wrong and people yell at me, right? ^_~ 

And –sensei can be used for teachers and doctors and, er…probably other things, as well. I'm not sure if it's used for psychiatric doctors, but I took the chance. ^_~ 

Funny note: Technically, "Dr. Barrington" should've been "Dokutooru Baringutonu," or something like that…but that sounds weird, as does "Barrington Freddie," so I just left it. ^^;; Sorry. 

****

BLACKBIRD AKUGI: 

Mitsukake: **internal monologue while looking at Saihitei** I saw his face! I saw his face!

****

Mitsukake: **staring long and hard at Saihitei** I know your face!

****

Saihitei: **about to cry; smiles**

****

Mitsukake: Éowyn! _Éowyn_!!

****

Saihitei: … --;;;

~

****

BLACKBIRD AKUGI, TAKE TWO: INSIDE JOKE EDITION (sorry! ^_^;; )

Sheridan: **deadly voice** So. Gil's been sending you toffees, _has _he?

****

Freddie: Er… .;;; 


	14. The Preparation

**Warnings:  **Uh…bad writing? ^_^;; Pre-sap? Ehe.  And it's very.  Very.  Cheesy.

**Notes:  **If I were any more sheepish, I would be, in fact, a sheep.  Bleat.

Anyway, I promised I wouldn't leave my stories incomplete! Even if it takes me a long time between chapters, I fully intend to finish all my major ones.  All your pressing questions will be answered at the end of the chapter, which, I hope, isn't as bad as I think it is. ^_^;;

Gotta say hi to all my author buddies! Buddy roll call!!

**RYUEN!! **(who is working on a very cool original story, which I'm sure everyone who enjoys FY would apprissiate… ^_~ )

**ROKU!! **(who just recently posted another chapter to Hidden Paths, the WS sequel!!)

**KRYSSA!! **(still woefully underrated! Go read "Between Seishi and Gods!" But at least I finally remembered to send her a letter! ^_~  Only took me eight million years…)

**KEI-CHAN!! **(who might not like all those evil characters so much if she actually met them in real life.  ^_~ )

**KAZE-CHAN!! **(who is coming to that anime convention in the spring…right???)

**SNOWTIGERFIRE!!! **(watashi no LONGTIME buddy—going on 13 years! She's apparently caved to peer pressure and is writing her very first fanfic in the Pitch Black genre!)

And of course, everyone else, too.  Thanks to everyone who's emailed and bugged me, and I hope you're not disappointed. ^_^;;  I might be a little out of practice.

**BLACKBIRD**

**~~*~~**

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**The Preparation**

The next few minutes seemed as long as years, and might have gone on forever if Myojuan had not felt a pair of arms wrap around his neck.  Then came the face pressed against his shoulder, and sounds of silent tears as his priestess held him and wept; clumsily, wordlessly, he tore his eyes from his picture and reached up to pat her shoulder.

"Daijobu," he said, his voice soft.  "I…I see it.  I remember."

"How much?" Taka asked.

"Enough," was his contrived reply, but it was true, and brief enough to manage.  What did he remember? Feelings, emotions; air, wind, and his shirt.  

_And Shouka.__  I remember Shouka._

All in all, it wasn't much.  But as he had said, summing up so many things, it was enough.  It went far beyond the boundaries of coincidence.  And he had to start listening to his own heart.__

_It's easier to accept it than to continue to fight it.  The bonds I feel with Ryuuen, and with Houjun; the times I can see the faces of the people they describe; the tingling in my hand, the desire to use my power…_

It was a healing power.  And all too often, it had failed; indeed, the feeling of failure, ancient failure, had begun to creep into his conscious memory.  He couldn't begin to piece it together, not on such short notice.  But it was a rotten emotion, and made him swallow in disgust.

"I say, Myojuan," came Freddie's voice, uncertain.  "Are you all right? You're looking a bit green."

_I feel a bit green, as well._

He swallowed.  "I'm…all right.  I'm all right, I just need a little time."__

"How much time?" Saihitei inquired gently, but Myojuan could detect the slight sense of urgency that lurked beneath his words.  The young man was aching to see Ryuuen—all of them, they were all aching to see their lost brothers—and had been patient for far too long.  Even then, the big doctor could not reconcile his own selfish desires for breathing space with the need for them all to be together once more.  It was like a pulling he felt in his chest, an almost urgent need to have them all together, all eight of them, although six would have to do at the moment.  It was like an addiction: a little would suffice to assuage his heart, but sooner or later, he knew he would need all of them.  Everyone. 

"Freddie," he said, still not completely himself.  "Please…go get Houjun and bring him to Ryuuen's room.  Give him as much time as he needs to get ready." Turning to the others, he attempted not to appear as nauseous as he felt.  "Gomen nasai.  I shouldn't have kept you waiting this long, not when you've all come so far."

Miaka had pulled away by then, standing at Taka's side in the shelter of his arms.  Tears still streaked her face.  "You mean…you'll let us see Nuriko and Chichiri? Now?"

With a nod, he barely noticed the door flutter closed as Freddie left the office.  His hands seemed bent on shaking, but he kept himself firmly under control; there would be ample time later to better accept his newfound identity and consider its implications.  "Please.  Follow me, and I'll take you to them."

Letting out a relieved breath, her face contorting with happy longing, Miaka rushed forward as he rose and opened the door, with Taka close at her heels.  Shortly, the two had made it to the hall, but Saihitei was making decidedly slower progress.  He had risen from his chair, but his face had gone pale as he stood there, regally straight but with trembling fists clenched to the sides of his khaki trousers.

Myojuan gave the young man a moment before addressing him.

"Heika?"

He fought back a wince at the automatic title that had slipped through his lips without warning.

There was a slight pause as Saihitei let out a long sigh, tilting his head to the ground.  "Strange," he breathed in response, his tone musing, his fine brows drawing together on his forehead.  "Strange, that I should have spent all this time searching, hoping, praying to see him again…and yet, when that day finally arrives, I find myself so frightened that I can barely move."

Myojuan smiled kindly, feeling his own anxiety dissipate somewhat.  "I wouldn't worry.  He loves you, Heika-sama, whichever way you would have it." He did not stop to explain exactly what he meant by _that_.  "He has been dying to meet you, as well, and for longer than you might think."  He remembered what Emma had said about the pictures Ryuuen had drawn when he was in her care, and he gave a small sigh.  The princely young man certainly seemed to care a great deal for his patient, but it was still not evident exactly where that care stemmed from.  He only hoped that Ryuuen would be able to accept it if Saihitei desired friendship and brotherhood, and nothing more than that, as he had in the past.

Saihitei seemed dubious at Myojuan's reassurance, but took a breath and collected himself.  Only seconds later, he had followed his companions out into the long, white hall, and Myojuan closed the door behind them.

It occurred to Myojuan about half way to Ryuuen's room that his patient would probably not appreciate being shoved into the reunion with bad breath and bed head, so he asked the three visitors to wait outside in order to give the boy a chance to preen.  Despite having waited so long to finally see him again, they seemed to take this in stride, as if expecting such an allowance to be made.

"He's so funny about that," Miaka giggled nervously.  "Like he needs to _work _to make himself pretty! Baka desu ne…"

It then occurred to him that Ryuuen might need more than mere preening time to prepare himself for such a reunion.  He hadn't considered it before, but there was a chance that his patient might not even _want to meet them, at least not so suddenly.  It could excite him too much; the realization of all his dreams could be potentially hazardous, as could the distinct possibility that his emperor might not love him back._

"Come to think of it," he said, slightly sheepish, "perhaps I'm jumping in too quickly.  He might need a little longer to take everything in."

Miaka looked slightly disappointed, but Saihitei and Taka both nodded wisely.  So he directed them to the lobby—which wouldn't be crowded at this time of day—and said he'd send someone for them when all was clear; this said, he turned the knob of the door before him and slipped quietly into Ryuuen's room.  With his back against the door, he exhaled deeply, running over the boy's small shape on the bed with his eyes; the lights in the room were still on, though Ryuuen, it appeared, was out.  He was dressed and lying on top of his sheets rather than under them, and his hair seemed slightly damp; it looked as though he had gone through all the trouble of getting up and getting clean, only to decide he was still tired and go back to bed.

Then again, he supposed it made at least a little sense.  Since Ryuuen now had the cast on his hand, someone had probably come to help him shower for the first time without getting it wet.  Most likely, it had been Emma or Ruth.  

Whatever the story was, however, it all worked out to his advantage.  He couldn't help the fond smile that grew on his face as he carefully approached.  Ryuuen was lying on his back with both hands resting in the middle of his chest; he didn't normally sleep in that position, preferring instead to curl on one side, but the cast would make that more difficult.  

Reaching out his hand, Myojuan was about to shake the boy's shoulder gently to rouse him, when something stopped him, and he frowned.  Something about the way Ryuuen was lying, something about the positioning of the pale arms, seemed wrong.  No, not just wrong; it _disturbed him, somehow.  It made something inside him lurch, and prickles crept across his skin like half a million ants, or something equally pleasant.  _

Still frowning, his breath coming a little bit faster, he made himself complete his task and wake Ryuuen up.  One thing was certain: he had to get Ryuuen to wake up, make him open his eyes, just move, anything that would make him lose the deathly pallor, the coffin-like crossing of his arms…

_Beautiful even in death…_

"Ryuuen," he called quickly, before the memories could become too overwhelming.  "Ryuuen, wake up.  Wake up."

For a long, terrible moment, he was afraid the boy would _not wake up, that he'd remain there in that awful dead sleep forever, that he, Myojuan, had done something wrong somehow, and his patient's death was the consequence.  But just as he heard his heart begin to pound in his ears, he saw Ryuuen's eyelids flutter and then tighten, his face scrunching up as he moaned out his consciousness.  _

"Mmmmrr," he seemed to say.

Myojuan closed his eyes briefly in relief, and shook his head at his own existence.  He could no longer deny the fact that these memories were real, and that they were his.  It had been right there in front of him on photographic paper, and it had been in his head all along; he did not know why he had not remembered anything, when everyone else seemed to remember just fine.  He had no clear timeline of his previous life, but merely flashes of events and faces that might as well have been photographs, themselves.

_I wonder why I'm not more affected by this, _he wondered.  _But then, I guess only the acceptance part is new.  The other stuff has been there all along, hasn't it?_

"Ryuuen," he said again.  "Come on, time to wake up.  You've got visitors."__

Letting out a sigh, Ryuuen lifted his unwounded hand up to rub at his eyes.  "Mm," he said, and when the hand was removed, the eyes beneath it were frowning in confusion.  "Hm? Visitors?"

"That's right." Myojuan smiled.  "Three of them, in fact."

The boy's violet eyes grew uncertain.  "My…my family?" he whispered.

"Sort of," his doctor replied, and winked, helping Ryuuen sit up.  His large hand brushed at the young man's damp hair, tucking a few strands of it behind his ears.  "It's not your parents, or your brother or sister…"

_Star brothers_.  _Seishi._  Marked by the gods…__

"Dr. Yamada?" Ryuuen said, sounding a little more awake. "Why are you touching my chest?"

Myojuan stared at him before noticing that his hand had, completely of its own accord, trailed down to brush at the space just below the boy's left collar bone.  Quickly, he snatched it back, as if the white fabric had burned him; horrified at his unconscious action, he was about to apologize profusely to Ryuuen—a boy who, for God's sake, had been _molested by his doctor _as a child!!—when he caught his patient's eye, and paused.  Instead of looking angry or frightened, Ryuuen was actually _smirking _at him.  It wasn't a nasty smirk by any means, but a playful and knowing one, hiding the beginnings of laughter that threatened to break through it.

As his doctor looked on, dumbfounded, Ryuuen smiled and sighed, reaching down for Myojuan's left hand.  Holding it up so the hand was spread wide, palm facing out, the boy examined it closely.

"I know," he said quietly.  "Yours was here…"  Gently, he brushed against the large palm with the emerging, imprisoned fingers of his injured hand, tracing out a letter or symbol with a ghost-like touch.  He raised more somber eyes to meet his doctor's.  "We don't have them anymore.  Chichiri doesn't, either.  I don't know what that means."

Falteringly, beginning to relax, he smiled.  "Maybe it means that we've been blessed with peaceful lives, lives where we won't need any magical powers to see us through."

Ryuuen's smile faded, replacing itself with surprise.  "We?" he whispered.  "You said…"

"I _said_…" Myojuan stood up, pulling his hand away.  "I _believe _I said you've got some visitors.  Might I add that these particular visitors are _very anxious to see you?"_

The child's eyes trailed off to one side as he tried to figure out just who cared enough about him to want to come see him in a place like this.  He seemed to be having trouble thinking of anyone, which pulled at the doctor's heart.

"Indeed," the big man continued softly.  "They are _so _very anxious to see you that they've come all the way from _Japan."_

With widening eyes, Ryuuen looked up at him slowly, disbelief blooming on his face.  He took a few shallow breaths, his lower lip trembling.  "They came?" he whispered, as if, after everything he remembered, he had to fight to believe it was all real, that maybe he would get his happy ending, after all.  "M….Miaka? She's here? She's _here_!" he squeaked when Myojuan nodded, scrambling to his knees and trying to get to the floor in spite of his shaking limbs.

"Easy," Myojuan soothed, helping him.  "Calm down…"

There was a knock at the door, then, and when permission was granted for the outside party to enter, Houjun and Freddie hurried into the room.

"Sorry, Myojuan," Freddie said, "I had a bit of trouble locating him…"

Before anyone could say anything else, Ryuuen rushed to Houjun's side and threw his arms around him, raising up on his tiptoes to press their cheeks together.  "They're here," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.  "They're here, they're here, they came for us, they _came_…"

Houjun couldn't contain his smile, though his voice wavered as he replied.  "I know, I know.  We knew they would, didn't we?" Gently, he took his friend by the shoulders and pushed him slightly away so they could look each other in the face.  "Nuriko…you know it's Hotohori.  You know Hotohori's here, don't you?"

The boy's eyes grew even wider, his jaw dropping slightly; he shot a frantic glance over at Myojuan and Freddie for confirmation before turning back to Houjun.  "H…Hotohori-sama?" he whispered, his eyes sparkling too much to be free of tears.  "Hotohori-sama…came for me?"

Something in Houjun's face betrayed his contrition at spilling the beans.  Slowly, he nodded.  "That's right.  Dr. Barrington says you don't have to see him until you're ready."

Myojuan caught Freddie's eye, impressed that they had arrived at the same conclusion, and the Englishman shrugged.  "Common sense, Myojuan," he muttered.  "I didn't get my certificate by prancing about in fields full of lilies, after all."

"Houjun!" Ryuuen said hoarsely, a look akin to panic on his face, and both doctors stopped their bantering to frown at him in worry.  Perhaps he was frightened of what Saihitei might say, Myojuan thought with a sinking heart.  Perhaps his dreams were all he had to live on, and now that reality was on his doorstep, he would rather continue to pretend; if Saihitei wasn't truly his knight in shining armor, perhaps keeping them apart would be best…

But Ryuuen had made no such decision.  As soon as Houjun's attention had been captured, the young man's hand went to his hair, clutching at it.

"Do I look okay?" he worried, smoothing it down.  "Am I too pale? Do I have bags under my eyes? Is my hair too messy? Is my breath okay? Do I look too stupid with these hospital clothes on?"

"No, no," Houjun was quick to reassure him.  "No, Ryuuen; you look fine."

"But, _Houjun_…" Chewing nervously on his lower lip, Ryuuen leaned his head forward to ask a private question which remained faintly audible to the others.  "Am I…_pretty?" His cheeks colored, and he could barely keep his eyes raised._

The blue-haired patient's face broke into a smile, and he put his right hand on top of Ryuuen's head.  "You're beautiful," he murmured, with the kind of familiar fondness a much-older brother might display upon seeing his younger sister dressed for the senior prom.  

As Ryuuen smiled, shyly and shakily, and moved to hug Houjun once again, the older patient's brown eyes darted dubiously to Myojuan's.  Although no words passed between them, Myojuan could read them easily:  like himself, Houjun was very worried about the Saihitei situation.  What if Ryuuen was rejected again—not unkindly, never unkindly, but peremptorily, all the same? What would it do to him, to have his greatest dream torn from him once more?

"Last night," Ryuuen said quietly, "I dreamed this.  I dreamed that we were all together, and Hotohori-sama and I…  I dreamed we were so happy.  And now it's coming true.  It's all coming true."

As Freddie, accepting a tentative nod from Myojuan, left to find the visitors and bring them to the little room, the big doctor could only hope that this was, indeed, the case.

**TBC…**

**BLACKBIRD AKUGI!!!**

**Myojuan****:  I wonder why I'm not more affected by this…**

**Mouse-chan:  **Ehem…yeah, me too!

**TAKE TWO!**

**Freddie:  **Are you all right? You're looking a bit green.

**Myojuan****:  **strumming a banjo** It's not easy being green…**

^_^;; ehehe

**Notes:  **Wahhh, I know it's bad! Okay, so that whole "You look like the prom queen!" thing was kinda dumb.  And Ryuuen in this chapter sorta reminds me of Robin as Tiny Tim in the Muppet Christmas Carol.  You know, the part where he has an apoplexy (**nods to Roku**) about the Christmas goose?  

**Robin:  **The goose! The goose!! **wheeeeze**

**Myojuan****:  Easy.  Calm down.**

I hereby insert a Conversation between You (the honored reader-chan) and Me (the sheepish author-chan) in order to clear a few things up with regard to…stuff.  **nod** ^_^

**You: **What the heck took you so long, Mouse-chan, you inexcusable freak??! ^_~

**Me: **Well.  ^_^;; There are at least two reasons behind the delay.  One: schoolwork is bogging me down.

**You:  **That never stopped you before.

**Me:  **Erm…inconsequential. ^_^;; 

Two: I've been writing something else in a different style basically all semester, and every time I'd try to write something in the FY fandom, it would end up sounding strange.  And I figured that I'd rather take longer between chapters than try to write something when I'm not in the right style/frame of mind and have it really really suck. ^_^; Hopefully, this particular chapter doesn't suck so badly as to make people flee for the hills.  It hasn't been beta read, so feel free to leave me comments about stuff to change, and I'll try to go back and change it sometime soon. ^_^  

**You:  **What could POSSIBLY be more important than writing fanfics???!!!

**Me:  **Ehehe…dunno.  Let's just say I'm a nerd. ^_^;

**You: **That's not good enough.  We don't care if you feel stuck-up and pretentious by telling us! We wanna know!

**Me:  **But I feel stuck-up and pretentious by telling you.

**You:  **So??!

**Me:  **Okay, fine.  Let's just say that Freddie has his own story.  Although Freddie in Blackbird is more like a cross between Real Freddie and another fellow named Gil.  And he has no balls. ^_~

**You:  …**.ExCUSE me?!?!

**Me:  **Eeep! I mean, he does! I mean, sure, physically, he does! ^_^;;;; I mean…he's just…timid!

**You:  **Uh…okayyyyy.  You really like talking about your original story, don't you?

**Me:  **Yes, though it shames me to say it.  I can't help it! I wish someone else had written it so I could talk about it and not feel like I'm trying to show off.

**You:  **Show off? Come on, it can't be _that good._

**Me:  **I know, but still.

**You:  **Has anyone ever told you you've got major issues?

**Me:  **Are you kidding?

**You:  **Okay, forget your pretentious original story.  When the heck are you gonna get your act together and work on YAS?!?!?

**Me:  **Well, I was actually looking over it the other day, and I really do wanna work on it some more.  So hopefully, I'll be able to do so soon.  However…

**You:  **Uh-oh.  That doesn't sound good.

**Me:  **Yeah.  See, in order to work on YAS, I have to figure out exactly what's gonna happen. ^_^;;

**You:  **Don't you have an outline?!?!

**Me:  **Sure.

**You:  **And??!

**Me:  **All it says is, "They Defeat Miboshi." Not a clue how it's gonna happen.  Need to work on the small details.  Have I mentioned I stink at writing action sequences?

(**Exhibit A:  ****five chapters of people sitting around in the middle of the Great War…TALKING.** )

**Ryuen****:  Come on! Show me some gore!**

**Me:  **Hey! It's hard enough writing action sequences, but you had to make it worse by getting me hooked on Highlander where people regenerate after three seconds! :P

**Ryuen****:  **:P

**Me:  **So, anyway.  Before this gets out of hand, I'll stop. ^_~  Hopefully, people don't wish I'd never written this chapter at all. ^_~  Anyhoo, I'll get back to you all as soon as I can! **hugs**


End file.
